Harry and Malcolm: Together Again
by HiBob
Summary: Dewey is an American. Dewey is Ten. Dewey is going to Hogwarts because he is also Eleven. And it's all Malcolm's fault. A completed story of Malcolm's third year.
1. Introduction

HARRY AND MALCOLM: TOGETHER AGAIN

  


By: HiBob

  


Disclaimer: Despite my best efforts, JK Rowling still owns the rights to the Harry Potter Characters, although I have the option to purchase one of Dobby's Tea Cozy Hats (TM). With equal failure, I have been unable to obtain the rights to the show 'Malcolm in the Middle,' but I have obtained the address of The Linwood Boomer Fan Club. Also, for legal purposes, I must mention that the Unseen University will not be making an appearance in this story

  


WARNING: This story is the third in a series of Malcolm's adventures at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As a result, this story does contain Krelboynes. You have been warned.

  


INTRODUCTION

  
  


For those of you ambitious readers who were curious about the title and decided to check this out, it helps if you have read the first two stories first. However I assume that you, like me, don't really care to go read something else. Therefore, I have decided to tell you what the first two stories were about. I have also tried to do it without revealing the actual plot of either story, or the lack of a plot as the case may be.

  


Hogwarts in the Middle - Malcolm's first year.

  


Reese finds a pair of tickets and he and Malcolm sneak on board the Hogwarts express with the unwitting help of Neville Longbottom. Reese alienates everyone while Ginny Weasley discovers that Malcolm is a wizard. Draco Malfoy, in an amazing example of bravery and courage, rescues Malcolm from the attack of an evil dementor and they become fast friends. Fred and George Weasley tell Malcolm that his story about Malfoy is a bunch of codswallop and sneak him onto the boats with the new students.

Ron Weasley is awarded ten points for dropping Reese with a paralyzing curse, and Malcolm walks into Hogwarts to find his mother waiting. As punishment, he is forced to remain as a student where it is discovered by Madam Hooch that he suffers from air sickness. To combat the negative impression this gives everyone, he invites Ginny and Draco to his house for Christmas and they end up on the cover of a wizarding magazine after they kiss under the mistletoe. Ginny is never able to explain this properly and is grounded for the entire summer.

Malcolm returns to school and begins the year by attacking Ginny's left fist with his chin. He goes on to do a passable Elmer Fudd impersonation, then turns Mrs. Norris, a cat, bright yellow so that her fur matches her eyes. In the meantime, he talks Dobby, a house elf, into feeding Buckbeak, a hippogryph whom Malcolm has addicted to cranberry muffins. The main result of this is that Hagrid can't understand why Buckbeak won't eat his regular food. (Dobby's been secretly stuffing him with muffins. He's already full.)

At the end of the year, Malcolm goes with Draco to St. Mungo's and then misses the train back to Hogwarts. They spend the night in London and have a wonderful time, thanks to Malcolm's use of a magical talisman known as 'The Fake ID'. They return only to find out that Buckbeak has run away and the school year is ending. Draco cries, but Malcolm tries to cheer him up. Draco cries some more, and the story ends.

  


Life is Unfair - Malcolm's second year

  


Malcolm returns to Hogwarts for his second year but he has to see a psychiatrist about his air sickness, because there is no physical cause for it. This is a transparent plot device to permit Malcolm to leave the school whenever the story requires it because the author is running out of ideas of what to write about. It is also to detract from the fact that Draco and Ginny have both been arrested and are waiting for someone to bail them out. It turns out to be Francis.

While at the hospital, (It is a useful plot device) Ginny discovers Draco's BIG SECRET, and promises not to tell. She and Draco decide to secretly fall in love but the plan falls through because neither of them told the other about the plan. Malcolm ends up alienating his psychiatrist by performing for the sick children at St. Mungo's.

Quidditch is cancelled but the first and second years have a plan and get permission to play two amateur matches before the pitch is taken over for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. In a daring scheme, the Slytherins decide to rig the match so that they will lose, by choosing Malcolm as their seeker. They then bet heavily on Gryffindor.

Draco rigs the match so that Slytherin will win, by getting Malcolm to agree to be the Seeker. He then bets heavily on Slytherin. Neville Longbottom owes a debt to the Weasley Twins and is forced to bet four knuts that Malcolm catches the snitch. He wins his bet.

Malcolm wins the match for the Slytherin team by revealing that he is an animagus and can turn into an owl. He is immediately given a letter and told to deliver it. As a reward for successfully delivering the letter, he is given two weeks of special education seminars by whatever teacher is holding detention that night. He is also invited to the Malfoys for New Years Eve, along with his entire family. While there, he meets many obnoxious people, Dewey runs off with a girl, Francis gets a date with MacNair's niece and Lois is given a house elf as a belated Christmas present.

In the second half of the year, Francis teaches Nob, the house elf, how to lie. Dobby the house elf reveals to Harry Potter that he already knows how to lie. Voldemort reveals to Malcolm that he is a big fan of the muggle cinema. Malcolm reveals that he is in love. And Gabrielle Delacour reveals that she is also in love. Ginny Weasley and the twins reveal that they have no idea of what is going on in Malcolm's head.

The year ends with Malcolm recovering from his wounds only to discover that his house was blown up by friends of Voldemort. His family was safe and already hiding at the Burrow, at the timely suggestion of Arthur Weasley. He leaves school to also discover that he now lives in England and that the Weasleys are his new neighbors. Everyone is happy with the results except for Ron, who finds Malcolm and his brothers to be extremely obnoxious. C'est la vie.

  


The Characters

  


Most of the characters are already known to most readers. I will not bother listing them here but I will make a note of the added characters from the previous stories who will make an appearance in this story.

  


EJ Captain is a Gryffindor. He is in his third year, as is Malcolm. He was born Ismail Ipswitch Captain but uses the initials, EJ, because his own initials coupled with his last name are extremely embarrassing.

Amber Dowling is also a third year Gryffindor. She and EJ are extremely fond of each other and are rarely seen separately.

Nob is a house elf. He was given to Lois by Lucius Malfoy as a way of being nice to her and also to get rid of the useless creature. Nob was freed by Lois but permitted to stay as long as he worked, but was later forced to stop working when it was discovered that he was only five. Since then he has fallen into a position somewhere between foster child and house pet.

Camilla is a character seen briefly in the first story and mentioned occasionally in the second story. She is an incredibly overweight girl who sends threatening letter to Malcolm on a periodic basis. The principle threat is that she will visit him.

Davis Winter is an adult. Specifically he is the adult that the American Department of Magic has assigned to keep an eye on Malcolm. His main task is to see that Malcolm stays in Hogwarts, or at least out of the United States.

  


This story will differ from the other stories in that the Krelboynes will have a larger presence. Also, there are a few more added characters, but mostly because JK Rowling did not give me many names to work with, especially with regards to the first years.

  


KRELBOYNE

  


The Krelboyne class is a group of gifted students at Malcolm's local school who receive special education in the trailer near the tetherball court. The ones mentioned in this story are as follows:

  


Stevie Kenarben is one of the few students to actually have a last name. Although he is bound to a wheelchair, it was enchanted by David Miller so that he can use it in a similar fashion to the way a wizard uses a broom. Although he has to be careful not to be seen, he no longer has any problems with stairs and other obstacles.

  


Lloyd Nixon is a dark haired boy with braces who is usually self-assured except when he knows that he has no idea what is going on. Like most Krelboynes he has no sense of humor and does not understand satire. In the show, his most memorable moment was when he demonstrated his homemade electromagnet at the Cirque du Krelboyne (The Krelboyne Picnic and Academic Circus). He turned it on and was immediately drawn to it, face first, because of his braces.

  


Dabney looks like a pudgy version of Malcolm with glasses, but he completely lacks any self confidence. He is likely to panic at the slightest threat, and can easily be talked into anything if threatened. His memorable moment in the show was when he walked into class and proudly announced that he had Curvature of the Spine.

  


Cynthia is a female Krelboyne who once had a crush on Malcolm, and still thinks fondly of him. Despite her overtures in the past, Malcolm has never noticed. Her finest moment was when Reese tried to make out with her and found out that she had spent the summer in an Israeli Kibbutz training with the army.

  


Eraserhead is called that because he looks like one. His big moment was when Reese cornered him, only to be cornered by his big brother in return. Eraserhead said ironically, "Kafkaesque, isn't it." Reese replied, "Huh?"

  


Dorene is Dabney's mother. While Lois is a control freak, Dorene has gone the extra step. She has completely subdued Dabney so that he will do anything she tells him, without question. There is never any mention of Dabney having a father, but that is no surprise.

  


Lionel Herkabe is the teacher. He is a former Krelboyne who married and became a millionaire but went bankrupt and his wife divorced him for a more successful man. He is highly resentful of the fact that he has been reduced to a teacher.

  


As a trivia note, the name Krelboyne was taken from the character Stanley Krelboyne of the B grade fifties movie, Little Shop of Horrors. The movie is best known for the fact that it was filmed in it's entirety in three days.

  
  


Now that I have finished boring all of you, I should tell you that the story actually begins with Chapter Two and you did not have to read any of this. C'est la vie.


	2. A Small World

CHAPTER TWO: A SMALL WORLD

  


"I know you did it, Malcolm."

"Ron, I don't even know what you're talking about."

"That tickle spider. I recognized it from Zonko's Joke Shop."

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "It must have been Reese. I've never even been to Zonko's."

[_Not that I haven't tried._]

Ron stuck out his hand accusingly. "It was you," he smirked. "I know you . . . ooh . . . ooh . . ."

Ron began to laugh as he suddenly started to claw at his shirt. He was laughing so hard he fell over, gasping for air. While rolling in the dirt he managed to tear his shirt off and reached into his armpit. He pulled out the rubber spider and threw it on the ground. He grabbed a rock and proceeded to pound the spider into a pulp, grunting in satisfaction each time he smashed it.

"RONALD WEASLEY," his mother yelled. "What are you doing? What have you done to your brand new shirt?"

"It's my fault, Mrs. Weasley," Malcolm quickly admitted. "I was showing Ron how to play Tarzan and the Apes, and I guess he got carried away."

"What? No? Mom?" Ron forced out, still trying to catch his breath, but it was no use. Molly Weasley grabbed her son by the ear and dragged him back to the Burrow.

[_I love living next door to these people. I think I'll see what Ginny is doing._]

*

"This is wonderful," Ginny said as she looked out over the beach.

Malcolm smiled, "I can't believe you've never been here before. It's only a couple of miles from your house."

"Too many muggles." Ginny gave a wide grin. "Mum doesn't think it's safe to be around muggles."

"That's only because she met Reese."

"Speaking of."

Reese ran up to Malcolm and Ginny. "I need a favor. I was with the two of you the entire time."

"Sure."

"Thanks," Reese said and continued to run in the other direction.

Ginny frowned. "Why are we making excuses for your brother?"

"We're not. I just told him we would. It's easier than being honest, and it's a lot more fun."

"Is Dewey going to show up, too."

"He's coming by with Ron." Malcolm smiled.

"But Ron is grounded because of that Tarzan thing."

Malcolm's smile grew wider. "Then I guess Dewey won't be coming. What's the matter?"

Ginny looked at Malcolm in surprise. "You set this whole thing up. Getting Ron grounded. Having Dewey wait for him. All of it."

"Let's go swimming," Malcolm suggested.

Malcolm made small talk as they walked to the water, so that Ginny would not notice Reese calling out their names as the policeman escorted him off the boardwalk. "Here's a good spot to leave our towels."

"Careful," a familiar voice said next to them. "You're kicking sand."

"Draco?"

Malcolm looked down and saw Draco Malfoy lying on a beach towel, sunning himself. Draco adjusted his sunglasses and waved hello.

[_He's got a great tan already, and school hasn't even been out a week. I've got to find the spell that does that._]

"What are you doing here?" Malcolm asked in surprise.

"I told father I was talking a few weeks off to go to the beach."

"And he let you?"

"Not really. He always thinks I'm lying about things like that. He probably thinks I'm at Crabbe's."

"Doesn't your mum care?" Ginny asked.

"No," Draco replied. "Should she?"

Ginny remembered everything she knew about Draco's family. "It would be something new if she did."

"Well, I don't care. I'm fifteen. I'm rich. I'm at the beach. And I plan on lying here until the end of August." Draco stretched leisurely, then paused. "Malcolm? What are you and Ginny doing here?"

"We live here. Near here."

"Oh," Draco nodded. "Small world. Is anyone else here? At the beach?"

"Reese was here but he got arrested about fifteen minutes ago."

Draco smiled. "It's going to be a beautiful day. If you'll excuse me, I need to take my before noon nap."

Ginny snorted. "Didn't you finish taking a nap?"

"That was my late morning nap. That was to get me warmed up for the rest of the day. Have fun. Don't let me bother you."

"MALCOLM, IS THAT YOU?"

[_Oh no, I recognize that nasal tone. It's a Krelboyne. I don't know how they found me._]

Malcolm carefully looked over his shoulder to see a tall dark haired nerd staring at him. "Lloyd?"

"It is you, Malcolm," Lloyd said excitedly. "This is such a small world. Who would believe it? When we heard you blew your house up we all thought we'd never see you again." He leaned in and whispered. "I think the police are still looking for your brother."

"No they aren't, Lloyd. That's an outright lie."

"Sorry, Malcolm," Lloyd said quickly.

"Yes," Ginny chimed in with a grin, "They arrested him fifteen minutes ago. The police already found him."

[_She said that to embarrass me, but it won't work. Lloyd is a Krelboyne._]

"Malcolm," Lloyd asked carefully. "Who is she? Are you with a girl? You're with a girl, aren't you?" He added excitedly. "You're actually with a girl. Wait until I tell everyone. Malcolm and, uh. some girl sitting in a tree K I S S . . ."

"LLOYD," Malcolm shouted, as several dozen people in the immediate area began to stare at him.

[_That's why you can't embarrass me in front of a Krelboyne. Being with a Krelboyne is already an embarrassment._]

Malcolm resigned himself to the situation. "Lloyd, this is Ginny. We go to school together."

"School? You mean the Hogwarts Institute for Emotionally Unbalanced Teenagers."

"We like to call it a school," Malcolm said as people around him began to stare again, and then slowly move away.

"Oh, right," Lloyd said, giving Malcolm a clever wink.

"Excuse me," said the voice on the ground directly between the two Americans. "I'm Draco Malfoy and I am also a fellow student of Malcolm's. I admit that I may be emotionally unbalanced, but why are you wearing a jumper at the beach?"

"A what?"

"A sweater," Malcolm explained.

Lloyd looked down. "It's so I don't get wet."

Draco grinned in a surprisingly friendly manner. "Then why are you at the beach?"

"For, uh, my health."

"Really? Then for the sake of your health, you should move. You're blocking my sun. Why don't you walk around me and stand on the same side of me that Malcolm is on?"

"I . . . I don't want to impose."

"No imposition at all," Draco said, as he reached over and twisted Lloyd's big toe. Lloyd immediately moved.

Draco continued smiling. "Thank you for stopping by, Malcolm, Ginny. Please take your friend and leave."

Malcolm led Ginny and Lloyd to the boardwalk, all thoughts of swimming gone. After walking halfway there, he told them to wait and walked back to where Draco was lying.

"HE'S NOT MY FRIEND. HE'S A KRELBOYNE."

[_I know people are staring again, but that felt good._]

*

"Are you, you know?" asked Lloyd as Malcolm walked away.

"I'm a student aide," Ginny told him. "I help out with the less dangerous cases."

Lloyd gave a look of relief and surprise. "That means he's really ok then?"

"He's safe, if that's what you mean," Ginny said, sporting the Weasley grin.

"Do you think you can talk him into helping us out."

"Us?" Ginny asked as Malcolm could be heard yelling at Draco.

"Yeah. The Krelboynes. We're involved in the Academic Olympics and Malcolm is really good at numbers. Uh, he is still good at numbers?"

"Oh yes, but he doesn't always see them as numbers, if you know what I mean.

"I do," Lloyd lied nervously. Ginny widened her grin.

"What is this Olympics about?"

"It's great. The smartest students in the state get together and fight it out, brain to brain."

"We're not supposed to encourage Malcolm to fight," Ginny admonished.

"Who am I fighting?" Malcolm asked as he walked up.

"NO ONE," Lloyd shouted. "It's OK. Relax. Relaaax."

[_I know what you're thinking but this is a normal start to a conversation._]

"I'm relaxed. So, who's fighting who."

"That should be whom is fighting whom," Ginny corrected. "Good grammar leads to good thinking."

Malcolm and Lloyd both gave quizzical looks at Ginny.

"Yes," Lloyd said quickly, "Good grammar is important."

Malcolm gave Lloyd and Ginny a quizzical look. "Who cares about grammar? I was only asking what you were talking about?"

"The Academic Olympics," Lloyd said, looking at Ginny to see if there were any problems telling this.

"That garbage?" Malcolm muttered. "Are you guys actually entering again?"

"We made it to the state finals," Lloyd bragged. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Do you think you could help us?"

"You want me to be a part of that stuff? No way."

Lloyd fell to his knees and began begging while Ginny looked at Malcolm who assured her that this was also normal. "Please, Malcolm. We'll lose without you. The other teams will murder us. We'll be outcasts."

"Lloyd, you're a Krelboyne. You're already an outcast. And no, I don't want to be in the Olympics."

"Wait a minute," Lloyd said as he pulled out his cell phone. He pressed speed dial and handed the phone to Malcolm. "Here, talk to Stevie."

Malcolm rolled his eyes and took the phone. "Hi, Stevie."

"Malcolm . . . is that . . . you?"

"Yeah, I ran into Lloyd at the beach. He's the one who called you."

"But . . . you're supposed . . . to be . . . hiding."

"Hiding? You've got to be kidding. I can't hide. I'm living next door to Ginny. Draco's spending the summer at the beach. And my first day here I run into Lloyd. I might as well wave a banner saying 'I'M MALCOLM."

"Excuse me," a police officer said. "Did you say you were Malcolm? Do you have a brother named Reese? Could we talk to you for a minute?"

"Do you mind? I'm on the phone, long distance."

"This is important."

"Hold on," Malcolm said, then spoke into the phone. "Stevie, the police want to talk to me about Reese. I'll call you back."

"Just leave . . . the line . . . open. This . . . I gotta . . . hear."

[_Why not. It's not my phone._]

"I know what this is about, Constable," Ginny said. "Reese was with us the entire time."

"Oh?" the officer said in an unfriendly fashion. "Then perhaps all three of you should come with me."

"I didn't do it," Lloyd cried as he stood up.

The police officer led them to a station a short distance away and showed them to the detective sitting at a desk. In a chair next to the desk was Reese. "Sir, these three claim they were with this young man at the time of the incident."

Reese turned to look at Malcolm and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, "Ix-nay on the excuse-ay."

The detective looked at Reese in disgust. He then looked at Lloyd. "Why are you wearing a jumper?"

"I, uh, don't want to get wet."

"Then why are you at the beach?"

"You're not going to twist my big toe, are you?"

"I wasn't planning on it." The detective turned to Malcolm. "Is he always like this?"

"Uh," Lloyd said quickly, "You should ask her. Malcolm's not very good with questions."

Malcolm looked at Lloyd in surprise. The detective shrugged his shoulders and turned to Ginny. "Are they always like this?"

"As long as I've known them."

"And you are?"

"Ginny Weasley, Sir."

"And do you live near here? I don't recognize you."

"My parents do. I'm visiting for the holidays."

Lloyd interrupted. "She helps out at the Institute, I mean the School."

"Lloyd," Malcolm asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Institute?" the detective asked with arched eyebrow.

"This . . . is great," Stevie said from the phone.

"That's Stevie," Malcolm explained. "He wanted to listen in on the conversation."

The detective nodded. "I am happy to see that someone is amused. Miss Weasley what is this institute?"

Ginny tried her best false smile. "It's called the Hogwarts Institute for Socially Disoriented Children and Young Adults. We're a private institution in Scotland."

"And you work there?"

"I'm a student aide."

"And these boys are here because?"

"Their parents moved next door to mine recently."

The detective frowned. "All three of these boys are brothers?"

"No," Lloyd said.

"Yes," Reese said. "Dewey is lying."

"Who's Dewey," Lloyd asked.

"You are, Dewey. Don't deny it or we'll have to send you back early." He turned to the detective, "I didn't do it, Sir. I was running because I needed to get help for my brother."

"Help?" the detective asked. "Where were you getting help?"

"Uh . . . uh . . ." Reese said informatively.

"Draco . . . Malfoy," Stevie said from the phone.

"Draco Malfoy," Malcolm said. "He also helps out at the school, uh, Institute. He came down with us. He's on the beach somewhere."

"Did someone say Draco Malfoy?" Arthur Weasley said as he walked into the station. "Dreadful boy. You don't want to deal with him if you can avoid it. Completely untrustworthy."

"And you are?" The detective asked.

"Arthur Weasley. I'm with the Ministry. I was looking for my daughter." He looked at Ginny. "I knew you'd be here. This is what happened the last time you were with Malcolm." He turned back to the detective. "What did they do this time?"

"This one," pointing at Reese, "was running from a group of other lads who were chasing him. They didn't say why. I thought to bring him here for safe keeping. When the ice cream fell out of his swimming trunks I sent the word out to look for his brother, and we found this lot."

"I'll take care of them," Arthur offered.

"What about these two," pointing to Lloyd and Malcolm. "Are they safe?"

"I'm not safe," Lloyd cried, "I'm an American. I'm only here because my parents thought it would broaden my horizons. I want to go home."

"This one is safe," Arthur Weasley said, as he patted Malcolm on the shoulder.

"You talked to Mom?" Malcolm asked and Arthur nodded.

The detective hemmed and hawed. "Well, because you are an adult, I'll leave them to your care."

"It was . . . nice . . . meeting you," Stevie said from the phone.

"Is that one of those Phelly tones?" Arthur asked as they left.

"A Cell Phone, yeah," Malcolm said. "It's Lloyd's."

"Amazing. What will these muggles think of next." Arthur said as he took the phone from Malcolm.

"Muggles?" Lloyd asked.

"Non- ma ah English folk," Malcolm explained. "It's local slang."

"Thank you, Malcolm," Arthur whispered. "I should be more careful."

"Why should he be careful?" Lloyd asked suspiciously.

"It's a local thing," Malcolm said quickly, pausing to look both ways before crossing the street. "You don't use it around people who aren't local. With me and Reese it's OK because we moved here."

"It's like a secret word," Lloyd said in understanding. "So, will you do it?"

"Do what?"

"The Academic Olympics. You owe it to me, especially after my mom sees the phone bill."

"I can't."

"I know. You're supposed to be in hiding. It's no problem. The police said that it was probably a gas line explosion."

"What was?"

"You're house," Lloyd replied uncomfortably. "That's why Stevie said you were hiding, right?"

Arthur handed the phone to Reese and joined in the conversation. "That might not be a bad idea, Malcolm."

[_What?_]

Arthur continued casually. "Stevie explained it to me and it sounds like a wonderful idea. May I talk to you privately."

Arthur took Malcolm to one side. "We're a bit involved in trying to get things together, Malcolm, after what happened to Harry Potter . . . and to you. But this could help us. We were trying to think of a way to hide someone while we had someone else take their place. If you went to this Academic whatever, we could use this as a practice."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to go with the Krelboynes next week so you can have someone pretend to be me."

"To see how well it works," Arthur acknowledged. "We'll need your parent's approval, of course. Malcolm, it is a small thing, but it could be important in the long run."

Malcolm nodded as he subconsciously rubbed the area on his chest where the scars crisscrossed (before Madame Pomfrey removed them).

"I'll do it," Malcolm said with resignation. He walked over to Reese and grabbed the phone. "I'm going to do it, Stevie."

"Do . . . what?"

"The Academic Olympics."

"Why? . . . I don't . . . even . . . want to . . . do it."

"Then remind me to hit Lloyd when no one is looking."

Malcolm handed the phone back to Lloyd. "I'll do it."

"You will? You're not just saying that. Like you say that wizard stuff."

"Really, Lloyd. I'm willing to do it. Mr. Weasley convinced me that it would be a good idea."

Lloyd looked skeptical. "Do you promise?"

[_What is with this guy. He keeps trying to get me to agree and when I do he doesn't believe me._]

"Look, Lloyd," Malcolm said as he raised his right hand. "I solemnly swear on all the powers of wizardry that I have that I will take part in the Academic Olympics." As Malcolm finished speaking, he felt a sudden surge of magic rush through him. He looked around and saw Ginny and her father staring at him.

"Malcolm," Ginny said in surprise. "You made a Wizards Oath. Now you have to do it."

"Have to?"

"The way Harry had to take part in the . . . tournament."

"Does that mean that he really will do it?" Lloyd asked Ginny.

"Yes," Arthur replied. "And your friend Stevie gave me all the information we need. Malcolm will be there on time. It was nice meeting you, Lloyd." Arthur ushered everyone through the phantom hedge that blocked the Burrow from being seen from the street, and rushed them all inside his house.

"You've done it, Malcolm," Mrs, Weasley said testily after her husband explained everything. "You couldn't leave it as a simple yes. Your mother will have a fit when she gets back and finds out what you've done."

"I didn't realize what I was doing," Malcolm said, knowing it was a terrible excuse.

*

Lloyd couldn't believe his luck when Malcolm said yes. They were sure to win the Academic Olympics now. Then the regionals, and hopefully the nationals and, dare he dream, the international competition. He looked around and noticed that he was suddenly alone on a country road. He couldn't see or hear Malcolm or Reese or their friend anywhere.

He fell to his knees and cried out, "I'M LOST!"


	3. Meeting of the Minds

A/N Thanks to everyone who has read this so far, and especially thanks to the reviewers. To answer Mandraco's question, Tonks will be involved to a degree and Sirius Black will make an appearance later on in the story. And to VMorticia I should note that I don't think Reese has any logic. Also a note to Grizabella. I think you meant to type summer instead of winter. As far as Lloyd is concerned, he is a Krelboyne, which means a lack of social skills.

After reading the reviews I made it a point to add a section about Krelboynes to the introduction to make them more easily understood by the casual reader.

  


CHAPTER THREE: MEETING OF THE MINDS

  


"It's easy, Fred," Malcolm explained. "I can show you how to do this in a minute."

"Is this a real American dance?" George asked. "You know you have a tendency to exaggerate."

"It is a real dance," Malcolm assured the twins. "More people in the United States know this dance than know the Twist."

"And the Twist is?"

"Another time," Malcolm explained. "Is everybody ready?"

Ron sat down. "I refuse to take part in any of his antics.

"The rest of us are ready," Molly Weasley said.

"Ok," Malcolm said as he looked around the room. "Everybody, put your left foot in."

"Do we Hokey Pokey now?" Ginny asked.

"That happens after we shake it all about," Malcolm explained. "I'll tell you when."

*

"Thank you so much," Lois told the government agent. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"It is my pleasure, Madam," the government agent replied. "We were informed through channels of your position in the witness protection program. All of us are happy to help." He escorted her into a closed room. "You will have complete privacy here for your conversation. The phone line is untraceable, and completely secure. When the phone rings, pick it up and your parents will be on the other end."

The agent left the room, closing the door behind him. Lois sat down, amazed at how comfortable the chair was. Then the phone rang.

"Hello, who is this," yelled a craggy voice from the other end.

"Mom, It's Lois."

"And what do you want, so fancy schmantzy you have to have someone else call me. You can't even dial the number yourself."

"Mom, I only wanted to let you know that I was fine." Lois was fuming. "I thought you would have heard about the house blowing up."

"I heard, I heard. I can only be thankful it was your house and not your sister's. Where would I go then when I take a vacation."

"Well, I'm glad I could be of help," Lois said angrily.

"What are you getting so worked up about. You know I never cared for you anyway. I admit, if your sister wasn't so perfect . . . but there you are. Fine, you told me. What do you want me to do about it?"

"How about showing some humanity," Lois yelled. "After all, this may be the last time we ever get to talk."

"When do we every talk? I don't remember ever having a conversation with you. I'm too busy telling you how to live your life, you and those worthless kids you have."

Lois took several deep breaths, then began to speak as calmly as she could. "It was good talking to you, Mom. Do you mind if I talk to my father, now?"

"He's not here. Not that it matters."

"What do you mean? Of course it matters."

"Why? You said this was the last time we were going to talk. Then you should know. He's not your father. Your sister, he's her father. But not you."

Lois stood up, stunned. "What do you mean?"

"Do I have to spell it out? I had an affair. I cheated on my husband. And I had a fun time doing it too."

"And you don't mind telling me this."

"Who are you going to tell? You're never going to be calling here anymore."

"Who is he?" Lois asked in a voice of stone.

"Who is he? How should I know? He was some magician doing the local carnival. You know the type. Sleeves full of handkerchiefs. Hat full of rabbits. Wife in the next town. A regular freeloader. But he was lots of fun. He gave me one of the rabbits. It was stringy. Not much meat on it. But it was a free meal."

"You don't even know his name?"

"What's to know? We had fun. Then one day he says his wife had a kid. He's leaving me because he has a daughter of his own to raise. I asked him why. That didn't stop me. Anyway, he left and I found out about you two weeks later. Go figure."

Lois held the phone to her ear for two full minutes before she realized the connection was broken. She sat the phone down and dropped into the chair.

"Lois?" A voice said, finally breaking the silence. Hal motioned everyone to wait as he entered the room alone.

"Lois? Honey? What happened?"

Lois threw her arms around Hal and began to cry. "I'm useless."

"No you're not," Hal insisted, then said with surprising force, "It's your mother that's useless. I told you not to bother calling her. She's too lazy to appreciate what she has in you, a wonderful wife, a loving mother, and . . . all those other great things about you."

Lois dried her eyes. "Really, Hal."

"You'll never be useless to me. I need you so much."

Lois looked Hal in the eyes. "Not here."

"I can lock the door."

"Do it."

*

A few days later Malcolm was sitting on the beach watching a five year old boy run at the waves and run back again. The boy was caught by a wave and laughed as it knocked him over. He picked himself up and started running again. Finally Malcolm called him away, and the boy sullenly retreated from the water.

"Who is that?" Draco asked as he walked up. "I thought I heard you call out 'Nob'."

"That is Nob," Malcolm said. "Nob, do you remember Draco."

"Yeah," Nob said happily, "Ron says you're the worst thing since . . ."

"Draco doesn't want to hear that," Malcolm said hastily.

"That's all right," Draco said. "Nob, remind me to tell you what I say about the Weasel."

"OK."

Draco turned to Malcolm. "What happened? Last week he was a house elf."

Malcolm shrugged. "Everybody kept complaining about the fact that he was an elf. The local school board, the protective service people, everybody. Anyway, Sunday we were showing him our old photos. I showed him a picture and told him that was me at his age. Then Nob went poof and appeared as five year old me."

"Does he change into you all the time?"

"Just the once, and he stayed that way. I don't think he knows how to change back. I don't think he wants to, either."

Draco laughed. "Malcolm, you have the strangest problems."

"Malcolm's going to America," Nob said as he forced himself between the two and grabbed their hands, "and he's going to buy me an ice cream."

"Won't that spoil your dinner?" Draco asked.

"Naw, I'll just eat less," Nob replied happily.

"When are you going?" Draco asked.

"I'm leaving in about five hours. Mr. Weasley's arranging a portkey. I'll only be gone less than an hour."

As Malcolm spoke, he saw Arthur Weasley running to meet them. "Malcolm, I'm glad I found you. I forgot about the time zones you muggles have. You have to be there in an hour." Then he noticed Draco. "YOU!"

"Watch it." Draco warned. "I'm having a friendly conversation with a schoolmate. That's all."

"But that will ruin the plan," Nob said.

"Quiet, Nob," Arthur Weasley insisted.

"Yes, don't shout," Draco said. "What plan?"

"It's great," Nob giggled. "Malcolm is going to run away and we're going to have somebody take his place, just to see if anyone notices."

Draco smiled malevolently. "You didn't tell your mom? Malcolm, why is Weasley involved?"

"I accidently took a wizards oath. I have to go."

Draco's malevolent look died in laughter. "You would do that by accident. You said it would take less than an hour? I'll cover for you."

"And we should trust you," Arthur said, angry that his plan was accidentally revealed.

"You can't," Draco said angrily, "but Malcolm can. Our friendship is on shaky grounds but it isn't ended yet." He looked at Malcolm and raised his right hand. "I solemnly swear as a wizard of power that I will situate myself as Malcolm for as long as necessary so that he may safely discharge his obligations. I also swear that I will keep this secret from anyone who does not know, that he may not come to danger because of me."

Arthur Weasley stood by in amazement as he felt the force of a wizards oath. "I am surprised. I never thought of a Malfoy having any honor."

"I already told you. I'm doing this for Malcolm. I owe him. I owe your family nothing. I'll need a hair, Malcolm."

"What for?"

"Polyjuice Potion. I brought some just in case, but your magic trick is working wonders."

"What magic trick?" Arthur Weasley dared to ask.

"It's called a fake ID," Malcolm explained. "I'll show you when we get back."

"I won't be going," Arthur said as he ushered the three boys through the phantom hedge.

"I will be your escort," Albus Dumbledore said.

Malcolm stared at what he saw. Before him stood a well healed gentleman in a three piece suit, hair modestly short and a well trimmed beard. "You look good."

"A simple spell," Albus said. "I will grow my hair back when we are done with our little adventure. And you are to be our victim, Mr. Malfoy?"

"He took a wizards oath, Albus," Arthur noted.

"I felt it, Arthur. And I am not surprised. These two have always had a strong friendship."

"And what do I do?" Draco asked.

"You have to teach me to fly a broom," Nob said.

"Mom said you're not allowed on a broom," Malcolm reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, and you can't let Mom find out about it," Nob amended.

Draco smiled. "He really is a member of your family, Malcolm." Draco plucked a few hairs from Malcolm's head, and put them in a prepared flask that he 'just happened to have on him'. He drank a mouthful and cringed in pain. When he straightened up, Malcolm was gone and he was Malcolm.

"This way," Nob yelled as he dragged Draco toward the Burrow. Draco looked around in fear and noticed the smirking look on Arthur Weasley's face. 

"Nob, this isn't your house."

"No, but Fred and George said we could borrow their brooms."

Draco consoled himself that it would only be for one hour.

*

Malcolm watched the beginning of Draco's transformation but was ushered away by Dumbledore.

"I have a portkey, Malcolm. It will take us directly to the competition. Are there any questions?"

"Hi, Malcolm," A new voice said. "Your mom said you might be back here."

"Dennis? I was just leaving. I'll be back in an hour."

"I got here early. I took the knight bus. Where are you going? And who's the old man?"

"Mr. Creevey!"

Dennis jumped. "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't recognize you."

"Quite all right, Dennis. Why don't you join us? You can watch Malcolm showing off to everyone about how intelligent he is."

"Cool," Dennis said as he reached out for the portkey.

*

"Malcolm, you made it," Dabney shouted. "Hey everybody, it's Malcolm."

Malcolm cringed as a record number of Krelboynes cheered for him. Cynthia, who had a crush on him came up to him and smiled, proving that she still had the crush.

"Hi, Malcolm."

"Hi Cynthia," Malcolm said, staring at her, "You're, um, bigger than I remember."

"So are you. Thanks for coming."

"You're welcome."

[_That can't be Cynthia. She looks great. She doesn't even look like a Krelboyne anymore._]

"You made it," Lloyd said excitedly.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Malcolm said. "Time zones and all that."

"You're . . . lucky," Stevie said as he rolled up to greet his friend. "The Math . . . Group . . . is listed . . . last, and . . ."

"And I'm sorry Stevie but if I wait for you to explain, I'll miss it."

"Under . . . stood," Stevie said and nodded to a man who was obviously a teacher.

"So, you're Malcolm, the great brain."

"So who are you?"

"Lionel Herkabe. I teach the Krelboyne class, and I know exactly how smart my students are. You can get away with that crazy garbage overseas but not with me."

[_What a jerk._]

"What happened to Miss Miller?"

"Teaching wasn't good enough for her. She chickened out and chose to be a mother."

Dabney interrupted. "Mr. Herkabe used to be a Krelboyne. Isn't he great."

Malcolm stared at Lionel Herkabe. "I didn't come all this way just to talk to a . . ."

"Malcolm!" Albus Dumbledore interrupted, then said politely, "It was a long flight."

Lionel Herkabe sneered in his effort to intimidate. "Did you take a plane, or did you use brooms?"

"I don't use a broom anymore," Malcolm said cheerfully as he began waving his arms up and down, "all I do is flap my wings. But I don't fly very well. Not with the new medication."

[_I love it when their eyes glaze like that._]

Mr. Herkabe took a step back. "He can still do numbers?"

"I checked," Lloyd offered. "He can, but he doesn't always see them as numbers, if you know what I mean."

Lionel and Malcolm gave Lloyd a confused look.

"It doesn't matter," Herkabe said in resignation.. "The most he can get is thirty points, and we're thirty-seven points out of first place."

"This is so cool, Malcolm," Dabney offered.

"Where do I go?" Malcolm demanded.

"Through there," Dabney said, pointing at the door.

Herkabe glared at Dennis Creevey. "And who are you?"

Dennis smiled. "I'm here to make sure that Malcolm takes his medication."

[_Remind me to ask why I invited Dennis to visit me._]

"It isn't very crowded," Albus noted as he followed Malcolm through the door.

"These guys give nerds a bad name. No one is here who doesn't have to be. This whole thing is so phony."

"Is it?"

"Of course it is. Nobody cares about who's the smartest kid around unless he's also charming, modest, and rich, and even then you're stretching it."

"It means something to those who participate," Dumbledore pointed out. "It means something to your friends that you are here."

[_Great. Now I feel bad about not wanting to do this._]

"It doesn't matter," Malcolm muttered. "It's like that guy said. We're going to lose anyway."

"Then lose with pride," Albus said with a friendly smile.

"And curse the winners," Dennis added.

"You're right," Malcolm answered and took his place at the table with the other competitors. When he looked up, he saw Dabney and Lloyd and gave them his best smile.

*

"You're . . . English?"

"Dennis Creevey. I'm a schoolmate of Malcolm's. We're in the same house. Are you Stevie?"

"Malcolm . . . told you . . . about . . . me?"

"He mentioned you. Ginny Weasley was the one who actually told me. She described you as Malcolm with a conscience. I suppose that is a good thing. She didn't mention the wheelchair."

Stevie looked around quickly, then raised the wheelchair three inches. Dennis grinned as Stevie lowered himself back to the ground.

"I . . . find it . . . useful."

*

"May I have your attention," the moderator said. "This is the final round of our Academic competition. This round consists of twenty question in advanced mathematics. Each correct answer earns that school one point. At the end of the round, the school with the most points receives ten additional points. If there is a tie, there is a three question sudden death round. The first school to answer two questions is the winner. If more than two schools are tied, then only those schools whose students answered one of the first two sudden death questions may answer the third question. Let the contest begin. Mister Belleau will read the questions."

The lady who was moderating sat down. Next to her, Mr. Belleau opened his notebook. "Our first question," he said. "Which number equaling A cubed times B is the reverse integral of the multiples of A and B . . . Yes, Malcolm."

"You're joking, right? It's the multiple of A and B, multiplied by 2A plus B. The answer is 24."

"That is correct," Belleau said. "The Krelboynes get one point. Our next question is . . . yes, Malcolm."

The next question is what is the most common cosine which equals the sine. The answer is One."

"That is also correct," Belleau said.

"That isn't all," Malcolm said as he stood up. The next eighteen answers are: 5.368; 21; 1, 5 and 9; 18; AX squared time BX when X is an imaginary number; Zero; .37989; 8; Base Two; an arc of 86 degrees; 12; 3; 1; 1; Plank's Constant; 6.3; 4; and Zero." He took a deep breath. "The three sudden death answers are: 2, 3 and 5; the tangent; and 13. Am I right."

"You are correct," Mr. Belleau said with a straight face.

"All you did," Malcolm complained, "was take the first twenty three questions from the College Advanced Placement Test for 1992. Everybody has been using them to practice with for years. They gave it to me to see if I could be a Krelboyne."

[_If I had know that, I would have failed the thing._]

"And don't tell me I was the only one to notice," Malcolm said. Looking around, he realized that he was the only one to notice.

"I told you," the moderator whispered to Mr. Belleau. "There's one in every bunch. Now our gooses are cooked."

"I can handle it," Mr. Belleau whispered. Standing up, he announced, "the student from the Krelboyne class has successfully answered all twenty three questions for a total of twenty three points, plus ten points for having the highest score, plus a bonus of five points for successfully naming the source of our questions. Congratulations, Malcolm."

"That was smooth," the moderator admitted. "Let's get something to drink."

"That's Thirty-Eight points," Dabney screamed. "We won. WE WON!"

"We what?" Malcolm asked as he left the table

"You won," Albus Dumbledore informed him. "You did the impossible, Malcolm. Why am I not surprised?"

"What should I do?"

"Join your friends, Malcolm. They will want to celebrate with you. We will worry about everything else afterward."

*

Draco picked Nob off the ground and called the broomstick back. "That was good. You have turned falling off into an art form." He paused to take a sip from his flask. "You have to remember not to lean into the turn too far. Try it again, but go slowly this time."

Draco watched appreciatively as Nob mounted the broom then flew around the tree, turned around and flew back the other way. "That was great. You didn't even slip."

"I didn't go very fast," Nob said with a pout.

"Speed isn't everything. Now that you can stay on, you can learn to go faster. Let's try landing."

"Landing? But I want to learn to fly."

Draco smirked. He said almost the same thing to the butler when he was learning to fly. "Landing is the hardest part of flying a broom. You have to know how to stop at the right speed and height to land safely. Pull back on your broom to lower yourself."

Nob crashed into the ground.

"You see," Draco explained. "Be thankful you were only three feet off the ground when you did that." He picked Nob up, dusted him off and had him mount the broom.

Nob flew around the tree again, then tried to land. He did, but not with the broom. Draco caught him and put him back on the broom to try again. And again. And again.

"Pull up a little more," Draco explained. "That's it. Come in slowly. Put your feet down and . . . you've done it, Nob. Your first successful landing." He looked at his pocket watch. "And it only took two hours."

Draco went to reach for his flask but realized it was now empty. He also realized that Malcolm had been gone for almost four hours and it was now getting dark. Then, as he felt himself begin to change back, he heard Fred and George coming up behind him from the Burrow. Suddenly, Nob threw his arms around him, and Draco felt a sudden rush of energy flow through his body.

[_What just happened?_]

"Nob. What did you do?" Draco whispered.

"I felt you changing," Nob whispered in return. "You were becoming not-Malcolm, so I made you Malcolm again."

"How did you do that?"

"I . . . I don't know. Did I do wrong?"

"You did great," Draco assured him, then said loudly, "You did a great job."

"You did," George agreed as he walked up. "You know how to land, Nob, and that's the hard part."

"We'll be teaching you to play Quidditch next," Fred promised.

Nob left the Weasley yard as the happiest five-year-old in the world.

As they left, George mentioned to Fred that Malcolm had finally dropped that fake English accent he was using.

"Psst."

Draco heard the noise as they approached the house. He ushered Nob inside and went to find the source of the noise as Lois began yelling at Nob.

Malcolm stepped out from behind a tree. "You were supposed to be going somewhere."

Draco stared. "Who me?"

[_That's right. Mr. Weasel forgot about the time zones._]

"Oh, sorry, there was a change of plans."

The other Malcolm laughed. "I knew I should have checked in first." He held out his hand. "Tonks."

Draco took the hand. "You're welcome."

A popping noise was heard as the other Malcolm disapperated.

[_I don't believe it. That guy didn't even look like me. I mean Malcolm. He didn't look like Malcolm. What DID Nob do to me?_]


	4. Too Many Deweys

A/N I forgot to answer VMorticia'a second question which is an obvious yes, but not for a while. And to clarify things for Shalemni, the third Malcolm was only temporary, hence the closing remark: "Tonks."

  
  


CHAPTER FOUR: TOO MANY DEWEYS

  


"REESE, GET IN HERE."

"I didn't do it," Reese said as he walked into the room.

"Didn't do what?" Lois asked suspiciously.

"Whatever you're about to accuse me of."

"I'm not going to accuse you of anything. What did you think I was going to accuse you of?"

"I wasn't thinking of anything," Reese said as a small explosion was heard above them. "Not even that."

*

"You look lost," the old Eskimo said.

Francis looked up in surprise. "Where did you come from? How did you get here?"

The Eskimo laughed. "I should be asking you those questions. I should also ask why. Winter is coming and Alaska is not known for its tropical weather."

"It's my fault," Francis admitted. "I knew it would be cold but I never realized how cold. I'm Francis."

The Eskimo raised a gloved hand. "I'm Ralph. I'm the local shaman. I noticed you wandering around and I smelled magic on you."

"On me? That would be my brother. He's studying to be a wizard." Francis paused. "It is alright to tell you that?"

"Sure, I'm in the business," Ralph said as he waved his arm. "You should feel better now. I moved the wind away from you."

"That does help," Francis admitted. "Maybe you can tell me where I need to go. I'm looking for a logging camp near here. Some lady named Lavernia . . ."

Ralph began laughing as hard as he could. "You're going to work for Lavernia? That old battleaxe will spit you out in five minutes. You can find her down the road about a half mile."

"Thanks," Francis said dubiously. He trudged up the road until he found the trading store and walked in.

"Who the hell are you?" A woman screamed.

"Cut it, Lady," Francis yelled back. "I'm looking for the owner. Not some over eager clerk."

"I am the owner," the woman hissed.

"Four minutes and thirty seconds," Ralph the Shaman said four minutes and thirty seconds later as Francis hugged the outside of the door.

"That lady is inhuman," Francis admitted as he inched his way from the door. Yelling could still be heard behind him. "The worst part is that I have to go back in there and ask her for a job."

"Is your life that bad?"

"It's terrible. I don't have any money left. My parents were forced to leave the country. My brother was almost killed by some manic magician . . ."

"Hold it, kid. I didn't want a life story. All I wanted was a yes or a no."

"Uh, yes."

"Well," the old Eskimo said as he pondered the snowy sky. "I was looking for an assistant, someone to run chores for me, watch the shop, things like that. I don't pay as much as Lavernia . . ."

"I'll take it," Francis said quickly. "When do I start?"

"How about now?"

"Great."

"Here's a couple of tens," Ralph said handing Francis some money. "Go inside and buy me two rolls of toilet paper."

Francis turned pale as he took the money and turned back toward the door. His only good thought was that he didn't work for that, well, you know what.

*

Lois looked up to see Arthur and Molly Weasley at her back door. "Howdy, neighbors."

Arthur quickly waved his wand. "I'm sorry, Lois, but we don't want your family to know we're here, not all of them. We need to talk to you, and to Malcolm if he's here."

"Sure. MALCOLM," Lois called. "That's funny he usually answers right away, especially since you know what happened."

"Oh yes," Arthur said hurriedly as Molly gave him a funny look. "You mean the flying lessons."

"Arthur, take off the privacy spell that you cast," Molly said.

"Sorry, there you go. Try calling him again."

"MALCOLM."

Draco walked into the kitchen and spotted the Weasleys. "What are they doing here?"

"Is Dewey around?" Arthur asked.

"He's in the bedroom watching one of those picture books," Draco answered.

Molly waved for Lois and Draco to follow her and Arthur. As they walked across the yard she explained the situation. "We need to show you something in the Burrow. If anybody wants to know, we're going on a holiday. Bill will be here watching the place but he can't stay the entire time. Tell them we asked Malcolm to watch our home for us while we're gone."

"I don't understand," Lois said as she entered the Burrow.

"What happened to you," Lois said in surprise. "What are you doing here. Where? What?"

"Hi, Mom," Dewey said as he looked up from the book he was reading.

Draco was stunned.

[_This is impossible. I just left Dewey five minutes ago._]

"Can we talk in private," Dewey asked, and the Weasley's excused themselves.

"What happened to you," Lois exclaimed. "Where did you get those clothes. Why are you three inches taller?"

"Mom, Draco, there was an accident."

"You know I'm Draco?"

"Shut up, Malcolm. Dewey, what kind of accident?"

"A time accident," Dewey explained. "I fell a year back in time."

"You have to explain that."

"Mr. Weasley said I can't. It'll cause problems. All I'm allowed to tell is that something will happen a year from now and I'll be sent back in time."

Lois was stunned. "Arthur, please come in here. Do you know what happened?"

"Enough to know what happened," Arthur admitted.

"Can't you do anything?"

"Yes, we can but . . . not for a year. There's a small problem with causality."

"How did it happen?"

"It's Malcolm's fault," Dewey said. "If you want, Mom, you can punish him before it happens. I don't mind."

Lois walked around the room. "I can't handle this. I don't know what to do."

[_This is great. Mom's never admitted that there was something she couldn't handle. Malcolm's going to be mad that he missed it._]

"Mom, I think the Weasley have already figured it out."

Lois looked at Draco and smiled. "That's right. That's why they want you to house sit."

"Exactly," Arthur said with a grin. "Dewey can stay here. He knows to keep out of sight. And Dewey also knows not to come into our house, the other Dewey that is. This will be great. I have my own personal muggle to explain things. Of course I won't be here most of the time. We're doing some house cleaning for (He glared at Draco) a cousin."

"That's great," Lois said. "And if you need an extra hand, Dewey loves to help clean."

"What?" Dewey exclaimed.

Lois turned to look at Dewey. "Did you really expect me to take your word for it. I'll believe it was an accident when it happens." Turning back to Arthur she said, "Feel free to use his help. He's just like a regular house elf when it comes to work."

"That is a wonderful idea. I'll tell Molly." Arthur left, and Lois turned back to Dewey. "You better help them, mister. They're doing you a big favor." She looked at Dewey then at Draco. "What is it with you kids? Why can't you have normal problems?"

"Mom," Draco began.

"You don't have to call me that, Draco."

[_She always tries to make things difficult._]

"Yes I do, Mom. Whatever Nob did made me Malcolm and Malcolm calls you Mom. I have to do whatever Malcolm would do, at least what I think he would do."

"Is that why you were never nice to me?" Dewey asked.

"Of course it is, you moron. All you ever do is cause trouble. I can't go anywhere without you butting in."

Lois held up her hand. "You proved your point . . . Malcolm."

Draco clenched his hands in frustration. "When is he ever going to get back? I could be on the beach right now."

Lois smiled. "His class won the regional competition, and Saturday is the national finals. If they win that, they enter the international competition, but that won't be until after Dewey's Birthday. He'll be ten . . ."

"And eleven," Dewey added.

Lois nodded. "I'd say three more weeks should do it." She gave Draco a compassionate smile as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

*

"This is the best time I've ever had," Malcolm said, as he walked out of the Smithsonian Museum of American History.

"Me . . . too," Stevie replied, as he rolled along side of his friend.

"It has been interesting," Albus Dumbledore admitted as he followed them out. "And traveling in the muggle fashion to your nation's capital makes one realize exactly how big your country is, Stevie. Next time, however, I will arrange for us to use a portkey."

"We had to do it, Professor. Travel with the Krelboynes. You were right about my being here giving them confidence. Even Dabney wasn't nervous. As nervous."

"That's . . . because his . . . mother . . . yelled . . . at him . . .while . . . he was . . . on stage."

"Exactly," Malcolm acknowledged. "And I feel great about this whole thing. I'm doing something to actually help other people."

Albus frowned at Malcolm. "And the fact that you are not under your parents supervision has nothing to do with it."

"Seriously, Sir. You're a lot stricter than my parents."

"Then your mother never threatens to turn you into a toad when you misbehave."

"She does, but she doesn't have the magic to back it up. And besides, I didn't even know it was there. The fact that it broke into so many pieces . . ."

"If you don't stop, Malcolm, you may hop the rest of the way back to your hotel room."

[_Well, maybe it was my fault a little. I was throwing the frisbee at the time._]

"Hey," Malcolm asked. "What happened to Dennis?"

*

"Excuse me," Dennis Creevey asked a fellow tourist. "Could you take our picture?"

The man smiled and waited as Dennis settled himself into the Captains Chair on the Starship Enterprise. Lloyd stood behind him giving the Vulcan hand greeting. Then they traded places for the second picture.

"Thanks, Lloyd. The Air and Space Museum was a great idea."

*

Malcolm and Stevie went back to their hotel, while Albus left to take care of business. 

"I'll be back," Malcolm told Stevie.

"You can't . . . go . . . outside," Stevie pointed out.

"Sure I can," Malcolm told his friend. "I planned for this." He pulled a leather jacket out of his suitcase along with some hair gel and went into the bathroom. He came out fifteen minutes later wearing the jacket over jeans and a T-shirt with his hair greased back.

"What do you think?"

"You . . . look . . . stupid."

"As long as I don't look exactly like me. This way, I look like Louis Renault."

"Who's . . . Louis?"

"It's my alter ego. I pretended I was somebody else so that people would think there's somebody who looks like me. And now, when I want to, I can pretend I'm somebody else and they'll think I'm telling the truth."

"You still . . . look . . . stupid."

"Do you want to come?"

"I'll . . . pass."

Malcolm walked down the stairs to the lobby near the side exit. Seeing the coast was clear, he stepped out of the stairwell and began walking toward the front desk.

"You're not allowed out of the hotel," the clerk said.

"Waddaya mean? I just walk in here. I'm looking for a guy."

The clerk looked amused. "You're looking for someone. Would he happen to be your age and your height?"

Malcolm smirked. "You're pretty smart for a jerk. Yeah, it's my friend Malcolm. What's his room?"

The clerk returned the smirk. "I'll check on that." He called Lionel Herkabe's room.

"What?" came the sharp reply."

"Sir, we have a guest who claims he's looking for Malcolm . . ."

"Send him away. Malcolm's too busy studying to see anybody. He has too many friends as it is."

The clerk looked surprised when he turned back to Malcolm. "Your friend is busy. May I take a message for him."

"Naw, I'll catch him tomorrow. Thanks anyway."

Malcolm turned around and walked out of the hotel despite everyone being told to keep him inside.

[_Great. Here I am in the Nation's Capitol and I can do anything I want. Except I forgot that I don't have any money._]

Malcolm chose his moment and snuck back into the hotel.

"Welcome . . . back," Stevie said upon his return.

*

The next morning, they were ready for the national finals of the Academic Olympics, when Albus took Malcolm aside.

"Malcolm, things have become serious. I will not be able chaperone you anymore after today. I know you've sworn an oath, but how good are the chances of you're winning this competition?"

"We'll probably lose," Malcolm assured the headmaster. "It's almost guaranteed."

"But you will be trying your best."

"I have to, Sir. Even without the Oath I would still try. I haven't even let anything distract me."

"Excuse . . . me," Stevie said as he interrupted. "Malcolm is . . . wanted . . . in the . . . competition . . . room . . . in ten . . . make that . . . five . . . minutes."

"Thank you, Stevie," Albus said. "And Malcolm, before you go, I need to tell you something. I was going to wait until you returned to school but I think this is a more appropriate time. It concerns Gabrielle Delacour . . ."

"And her boyfriend, Jean Paul," Malcolm muttered.

"And her brother, Jean Paul," Albus concluded.

"Her brother?" Malcolm asked as he felt his blood race. "Jean Paul is her brother? That means she does like me after all. I've been an idiot."

"We can call her after this is over, Malcolm. You are needed in the competition room."

Albus followed a dazed Malcolm into the auditorium filled with dozens of people. He took a seat and smiled, knowing he would be free of his young charge in only a few minutes. Malcolm walked up to the stage where four other competitors were waiting for him. All of them were made nervous by his continual rambling about how great it all was.

"Welcome to the mathematics final of the National Academic Olympics," the announcer said and the over three dozen people in the audience cheered. "We have some of the smartest students that America has to offer. And we have some of the toughest questions they'll ever have to answer, thanks to the national capital branch of MENSA."

A covered blackboard was rolled onto the stage. Malcolm looked at it and said, out load, "Gabrielle was wearing a robe exactly that color the last time I saw her."

"That's nice," the commentator said, looking at his sheet, " Malcolm?"

"Yeah, Gabrielle is the most beautiful girl you ever saw, and she actually likes me."

"I'm happy for you, Malcolm, and I'm sure that everyone else here is happy for you as well. But our first question is this. Give the formula to calculate the volume of a sphere in Euclidian N-dimensional space. Kim Lee of Chicago."

The girl in question approached the now uncovered blackboard and wrote: X! = gamma (X + 1).

"I'm sorry, Kim," the commentator said, "you gave us the definition. Anyone else? Malcolm has offered to give it a try."

"It's great," Malcolm said as he approached the blackboard. "I kept thinking that Gabrielle had another boyfriend, but it turns out it was her brother. Do you believe that. Her brother. I was as surprised as anybody. Now I have to find a way to talk to her. I mean, she lives in France, after all. I could fly there, that's not the problem, but . . ."

"Excuse me, Malcolm. The formula?"

"Oh, It's on the blackboard. Isn't that great. I'm actually looking forward to apologizing to her."

Near the back, Albus Dumbledore was smiling.

The commentator announced, " Malcolm's answer of (½ + N) ! = sqrt(pi) ( (2N = 2)!) / ( (N + 1) ! 4 ^ (N + 1) ) is correct. And I'm sure your girlfriend will be proud to know that."

Near the back, Albus Dumbledore was frowning.

"Would you like some popcorn?" Dennis offered.

*

Malcolm was still talking about Gabrielle when he left the auditorium. Finally, when Dumbledore suggested getting something to eat, the boy stopped in his tracks. "The competition! I missed the competition."

"No you didn't," Lloyd said. "You aced it."

"I what?"

"You topped everyone," Dennis added.

"It is true, my dear boy," Dumbledore said. "In between your strong praise of Gabrielle Delacour, you managed to answer every question correctly, even the ones that were not directed at you. You annoyed a great number of people."

"Especially Cynthia," Dabney added.

"You tricked me," Malcolm accused. "You said that to distract me so that I wouldn't think properly. Well, it didn't work."

"Yes it did," Dumbledore insisted. "Unfortunately, you answered every question without even thinking about it."

"You were great, Malcolm," Dabney said. "Now I don't even have to worry about the History Review. We'll win if I just show up."

As everyone ran back to watch the next competition, Malcolm stayed back with Professor Dumbledore. "I messed things up, didn't I?"

"But you did it with style, Malcolm. You didn't let your friends down. I will have to work something out, though." Albus stopped in mid-step. "I am a doddering old fool. I know exactly the person to contact. Your old friend, David Winter. He lives in the Washington area, if I am correct. He will be more than happy to do me a favor."

"Until he finds out what it is," Malcolm added, and they both smiled.

"By the way, Malcolm. I did not lie about Jean Paul."

*

"Hi, Mum," Dennis said into the phone. "I'm fine. I wanted to let you know what was going on. . . . "Oh, I'm in Washington now. Malcolm and his friends are great company. He's been busy so I've been hanging out with a friend of his, Lloyd. He's smart like Malcolm but he's a squib. He's always making fun of muggles. . . . "I know, Mom. It's rude, and I shouldn't say it. Malcolm always uses the word 'normal'.

Dennis paused as his mother laughed.

"Thanks. Bye Mum."

Malcolm looked over as Dennis hung up the phone. "What did you mean that Lloyd's a squib. He's as normal as you and . . . as Reese and Francis."

"Then why does he call people Muggles?"

"He's trying to be clever. He thinks a muggle is someone who isn't English."

Dennis nodded thoughtfully. "Then I shouldn't have given him that photograph?"

"I . . . covered . . . for you," Stevie told him.

*

"How can the two of you move like that?" Dabney asked as he looked at the Photograph of Lloyd playing Captain Kirk to Dennis's Spock.

"Microprocessors," Lloyd explained smoothly. "The entire picture is a computer circuit and power source. Stevie told me that Dennis's dad does research for Kodak."

"Can Dennis get me a camera?"

*

"Malcolm."

David Winter said that one word with so much expression, everyone who heard it could feel the impending doom.

"Mom said to say hello," Malcolm said cheerfully.

"A wonderful woman," David said wistfully, "she made the best coffee I've ever had." Then he frowned. "What exactly am I supposed to do with you?"

"It's not just me. It's Stevie as well. And Dennis. You have to act as our legal guardian in case anything happens."

"Such as the unauthorized use of magic?"

"I don't have my wand."

Davis Winter smiled. "I feel better already. Albus didn't tell me where we are going?"

"The International Academic Olympics, Stockholm, Sweden. Europe is the host continent and Sweden always wins."

"Sweden is nice," David mused.

"We have to use muggle transportation," Malcolm added.

"Muggle?" David Winter muttered as his frown returned. "No wonder Albus punted. I guess he was too busy to travel from London everyday."

"Things are bad, Sir. I'm sure you know."

"You know American policy, Malcolm. If it doesn't affect us directly, it isn't our problem. If you need my help, you have it. If you need OUR help, stand in line."

[_That's what makes America better than other countries. At least we have a line you can stand in._]

"Hey . . . Malcolm. Hello . . . Mister . . . Winter . . . Thanks for . . . the improvements . . . on the . . . wheelchair."

"You're welcome, Stevie. Are you looking forward to going to Stockholm?"

"Stockholm? . . . The Swedish . . . team . . . ate some . . . bad fish . . . They had . . . to . . . drop out . . .We're going . . . to . . . London."

David Winter froze in place. He had agreed to watch these two boys for the next two week because Albus Dumbledore had to return to London. Now he had to take them to that very place. If Albus had waited one more day, David could have gone to the beach instead.

"London?"

*

"Oh Goody," Dewey said without excitement. "I get to go to London."

"How do you think we feel?" Fred told him. "We get to go with you."

"And we get to spend the rest of our summer," George added, "cleaning cobwebs out of an old house."

"It is only cobwebs?" Dewey asked hopefully.

"Doxies have infested all the curtains, according to Mum," Ginny said mournfully. "I could have been at the beach with Malcolm."

"You see to much of Malcolm," Ron said. "The change will be good for you."

"Then send him to the house," Hermione Granger said, " and we'll go to the beach instead. Oh, and thanks for inviting me, Ron."

"I didn't expect this," Ron admitted, as he tried to find a way to make it better. "It'll be educational. Like a summer of Hagrid's classes." He smiled wanly. Hermione loved anything educational but she was still going to be cleaning a house.

"I hate my life," Dewey said as the car made a right turn.

"Here we are," Arthur Weasley said cheerfully. "Grimmauld Place."

"This is a grim old place," Dewey muttered as he looked out the window and George nodded in agreement.

*

"Dewey," Draco shouted. "What do you think you're doing?"

"The Weasley's left. We drove them away. They hated us. Ron didn't even say goodbye."

"Then that means they're coming back," Draco said in disgust. "Do you want to go to the beach?"

"Yeah!"

"Great, you can watch Nob."

"Why can't you watch Nob?"

"I'll be busy."

"What about Reese?"

Reese looked up. "I can't look after him. I'll be busy, too."

As they walked to the beach, Reese asked Draco, "Malcolm, what do you want to do when we get there?"

"I don't know. What did you want to do?"

"You could watch Nob," Dewey offered.

"I'm really watching you," Nob said. "Malcolm told me."

"Besides," Reese added, "We'll be too busy."

"I hate my life," Dewey muttered.


	5. Muggles and Birthdays

A/N This update comes to you despite the best efforts of Hurricane Isabel to disrupt my efforts. A word to the wise: If you want quick electrical repairs live next door to an military base. My apologies to the other 1.7 million who are still without power.

I read azntgr01's review for Chapter Four and thought I should repeat something that I mentioned in a previous story. I can update the story on a daily basis because I have already written the story, including the epilogue. I will still make some last minute changes when an inspiration hits me, but the story, for all practical purposes, is complete. One of these changes is a scene with Draco and Ginny, which was originally part of the previous chapter. However, Character Development forbids Draco from having a romantic encounter unless something embarrassing happens as a result. This is doubly true of Draco as Malcolm. Changing the incident permits me to humiliate Draco with ease.

Grizabella did ask an interesting question about Malcolm's accent. For the purposes of the story the answer is an obvious no, but the real life answer would be probably not. Most people are set in their speech patterns by the time they reach Malcolm's age. These patterns could still change if Malcolm was completely immersed in the English culture, but he maintains sufficient contact with his brothers and his American friends to reinforce his learned speech habits. This is not an arbitrary thing I'm making up. Seamus Finnigan was been at the school for two years longer than Malcolm and hasn't lost his Irish accent.

I should note with interest that Nob, the English house elf, now speaks with an American accent since he took human form. I should also note that Nob is not based on the character of Egg, but on one of the flashback scenes that show little Malcolm. 

  
  


CHAPTER FIVE: MUGGLES AND BIRTHDAYS

  


"It won't work," Lloyd decreed.

"Of course it will," Malcolm insisted. "You have to trust me on this."

"I trust Malcolm," Dabney said. "I've never had any problem with his ideas."

"I . . . have," Stevie said. "Count . . . me . . . out."

"Me too," Cynthia said. "I've already had my heart broken once."

"That leaves you," Malcolm said to the last member of the party, a red haired boy known only as Eraserhead, who looked remarkably like his nickname.

"I don't know," Eraserhead said thoughtfully. "It could work with the proper application. We should ask, first."

"Lloyd, you ask."

"It was your idea, Malcolm."

"Actually it was Dabney's. I only did the calculations."

"OK. I'll ask."

Dabney walked up to a fat man sitting in the waiting area. "Excuse me, Sir. Are you taking the flight to London."

"What concern is it of yours?" Vernon Dursley answered angrily. "If you must know, I'm returning home from a business trip."

"My friends and I were doing some calculations. We figured that a properly proportioned blockage with a weight of at least 450 pounds would be sufficient in case one of the passenger doors should accidentally open in flight. How much do you weigh? And please be honest."

*

Reese shook his head in annoyance, then kicked sand at Draco of the fun of it. Draco barely reacted. "Malcolm, what's wrong with you? You've been a real jerk since the Weasleys left."

"Well, you've been a jerk since before I was born," Draco yelled back. "I'm not in the mood, Reese. Go bother Dewey. He's trying to build a sand castle."

"Good idea," Reese said and ran down the beach to find Dewey.

[_I wonder how far he'll run before he realizes I pointed him in the wrong direction?_]

Draco lay down sullenly in his thoughts, oblivious to the people around him, the waves crashing on the shore, or the five year old boy who was burying him in the sand.

Ginny was sitting next to him in his thoughts. She had told him that she was going away for the rest of the summer. And then she told Draco, whom she thought was Malcolm, her most secret thoughts.

"I don't see him, Malcolm. Why did he leave? Do you know? Was it because of me?"

"Who are we talking about?"

Ginny gave him a sad smile. "Draco. I miss him."

[_WHAT?_]

"Can I tell you a secret, Malcolm? But you have to promise never to tell anybody."

"I'd promise you anything," Draco said, giving her a confident smile. "You know that"

Ginny squeezed his hand in appreciation. "I love Draco Malfoy," she whispered.

Draco's heart raced at the words. "Why didn't you tell him?"

Ginny frowned.

"How do you know I didn't tell him?"

"Because he would have told me," Malcolm answered smoothly. "After all, he is my best friend at school."

Ginny relaxed. "I wanted to tell him. I know it sounds stupid. You know we can never be together and it becomes more impossible every day. But I wanted him to know that I saw something in him, a possibility, and I fell in love with what might have been." She laughed to herself. "It sounds stupid."

"It sounds wonderful," Draco assured her. "You would have made him the happiest man in the world if you had told him that."

"Really. I was always afraid . . . that he . . . felt differently."

"You sounded like Stevie there for a minute," Draco said, and they both smiled. "I know how Draco feels about you."

"Malcolm! Draco told you?"

"Not me, but," he paused. "Do you remember the last time the two of you talked. You thought you were alone."

"Malcolm? You spied on us."

"Ginny, when I walked there, I was hoping the three of us could talk, the way we did before . . ." Draco paused. "The conversation clearly told me it should be a party of two."

[_Hey, I could have been listening. I mean Malcolm could have. Heck, you know what I mean._]

Draco paused, looking meaningfully into Ginny's eyes. "After you left, he thought he was alone. He looked down on the grave, and he said, "Woe unto me for I love a fair maiden / but fate has decreed we shall ere be apart / My heart is given to a grief so dear / for I love the one I can never have."

Draco looked away and wryly shook his head. "It was a bad poem, and he made it up on the spot, um, I think. But he feels the same way."

"Thank you, Malcolm," Ginny said appreciatively. "I can live my life now, knowing that I wasn't a complete fool."

She kissed him on the cheek, then got up and ran into the water for a swim. Draco went to put his hand on his cheek, to touch the spot where her lips touched him, but he could not move his arm.

Draco slowly awoke from his daydream to find he could not move at all except to turn his head and wiggle his toes. He opened his eyes to discover that he was covered from neck to ankles by a huge pyramid shaped pile of wet sand.

"Stop shaking," Nob called out from the other side, "I'm trying to smooth out the top."

"Nob? What did you do?"

"NOB," Reese called, "TIME TO GO HOME."

"OKAY," Nob called back, and ran off after Reese.

"NOB! REESE!" Draco yelled but to no avail. Then he saw another familiar figure. "Dewey, You've got to help me."

"Sure, I'll let Mom know you'll be late." Dewey ran off to join his brothers.

*

"And you claim that you work for the government, Mr. Winter."

"Yes, I do, Dorene."

"But you can't tell me what you do."

"I'm an administrator."

"In what department."

"I'm between assignments."

"But you have to work somewhere. What am I paying my taxes for? I just want to know why you're babysitting that crazy boy, Malcolm. DABNEY, don't talk to that boy. He's dangerous."

David Winter was at his wit's end. Dabney's mother was driving him up the wall with her questions. It wouldn't have been so bad if she were nice about it, but she was acting like an inquisitor at a trial.

"Dorene, can you keep a secret? Malcolm is not crazy. We are secretly using him as part of a secret government project to secretly determine what the enemy is secretly doing. This trip is to see if he can still integrate himself with normal people, but we want to keep that a secret."

"That is a load of bull," Dorene replied. "Why don't you tell the truth for once."

"Fine, you're a loud-mouthed bore with the intelligence of a ground bezoar." David Winter called to the steward and ordered another drink. It was going to be a long flight.

*

"There's that guy again," Lloyd pointed out as Vernon Dursley exited the onboard facility. He saw the two boys standing there, and scowled at them. Malcolm laughed unintentionally, and apologized just as quickly, earning another scowl. As Dursley turned his back on them, Lloyd attempted the impossible. He tried to be cool. "He's only a muggle, Malcolm. I wouldn't worry."

Vernon stopped and slowly turned around, his face completely red. "You're one of them, aren't you?" he hissed. "The whole lot of you are, I'll wager. Why don't you just fly to London on your brooms."

"Um, I can't fly a broom," Malcolm said, worried by the man's expression.

"It's his medication," Lloyd said, with equal fear, and less sense.

"Uff, Uff," Vernon said with great effort and walked away. He returned to his seat and asked the steward for a drink.

"You are quite the heavy drinker," the Steward said a short while later as he served Vernon his fifth drink. "Almost as much as the man in the next section."

"What man?" Vernon asked.

"The one who is the chaperone to those two boys you've been complaining about."

"Put his next drink on my tab," Vernon said generously.

*

[_I've got to do something. Somebody will come eventually. I know._]

Draco lay under the pile of sand on the deserted beach and began to sing, "A thousand bottles of beer on the wall / a thousand bottles of beer / take one down and pass it around / Nine hundred and ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall."

*

"You're drunk, Mr. Winter."

"And you're ugly, Dorene," David said as he tossed off his next drink, "and thank you Winston Churchill for that wonderful anecdote."

"This is compliments of someone who shares your sympathies," the steward said softly as he served the next drink.

"And who would that be," Dorene asked angrily.

"Almost anybody," David answered and tossed off the drink in one shot. "I'll have another one, my good man."

"Haven't you had enough?" Dorene demanded.

"NO, I can still hear you."

Mr. Herkabe came up. "Dorene, I will be more than happy to trade places with this drunk."

"DONE," David Winter shouted as he struggled out of his seat, and walked away.

"Thank you, Lionel," Dorene said. "There is at least one gentleman on this plane."

"Stuff it, Dorene," Herkabe said, "Your son is the weak link on this team and you know it. I just can't stand that Alphonse fellow."

Despite what he had just said, he still put his hand on her knee, and Dorene smiled.

*

"Lloyd, why did you say that about my medication."

"Ginny, that student nurse, told me. She said that's the excuse she gives when you want to fly a broom at the Institute. I just want to know how that guy knew you were crazy."

"Look . . . behind . . . you," Stevie whispered.

[_Did you see that? Dabney's mom and the new teacher making eyes at each other. I never felt sorry for a Krelboyne before._]

"We have to do something. That Herkabe is getting out of hand. Why do you guys put up with it?"

"He's . . . the . . . teacher," Stevie explained.

"He's a jerk."

"He's still the teacher," Cynthia said.

"He's not a good one," Malcolm said.

"What . . . are . . . you . . . thinking of . . . doing?"

"Teaching the teacher," Malcolm said. "Lesson one will be respect."

*

"Eight bottles of beer on the wall/ Eight bottles of . . ."

Draco's revery was cut short by the sound of a dune buggy pulling up.

"Here's another one, Jim. This one's an artist."

"What's this make, Carl? Number five."

"Six, if you count that couple as two."

"You mean the ones with all those children. First time I've been cussed for diggin' someone out of the sand."

"I got kids of me own," Carl admitted. "I know what they were feeling, They finally had an excuse not to do anything."

"Excuse me?" Draco said. "Could you get me out of here."

"That's our job, Sonny. That's why we're here."

"Well?" Draco asked pointedly.

"You're somethin' special. I mean, it's a pyramid an' all. We're waitin' for Ethel to come down with the camera and take a picture first."

*

"You must be Eraserhead's brother," David said as he sat down.

"Alphonse," the young man said, laughing at his brother's nickname. "I thought you were drunk. You had, what, ten Vodka Tonics."

"Interesting thing, Vodka," David said with amusement. "You can't see it or smell it in a drink. You only know it's there when you taste it."

"How many did you have?"

"One, and I had that little bottle refilled with water nine times. That, and good acting, made the trip bearable so far."

"And that flask you drank out of had nothing to do with it? I saw you drink out of the flask and in three steps you were sober again."

"A magic drink that makes you sober in one second? I don't think so."

Alphonse nodded. "How intelligent is ground bezoar?"

David Winter looked thoughtfully at his new companion. "I don't think intelligence has anything to do with it."

Alphonse nodded again. "I was curious when that English gentleman mentioned a portkey. I realized it was because he didn't see me. And I have noticed how agile Stevie is with his wheelchair."

"What are you getting at?

"Do you really fly around on a broom?"

A look of understanding and comradery passed between the two men.

"I do not," David answered firmly. "I have a bad back."

Alphonse smiled. "I also understand why you keep magic a secret. I promise I won't tell anyone."

"But you want something."

Alphonse nodded. "I want to know what you can do with magic. Then I want to figure out how to do it without magic."

"It is a pleasure meeting you, Alphonse."

As the two relaxed, Alphonse noticed the far away look in David's eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"Teaching a lesson," David said. "Nothing you would be interested in?"

"Try me," Alphonse suggested, "I've been sitting next to Herkabe all the time you were sitting with Dabney's mother."

"Lesson One," David said conspiratorially, "Respect."

*

"Happy Birthday, Dewey," Lois said as she placed the homemade cake on the table, complete with ten burning candles.

"Thanks, Mom. Is that chocolate cake?"

"Double Fudge chocolate cake," Hal answered. "Your favorite."

"You make that every year," Dewey whimpered. "I hate chocolate cake."

"Who cares," Reese said. "I like it."

"Don't worry," Lois told Dewey. "Next year we'll ask you first."

"You said that last year," Dewey replied but no one was listening.

"What's double fudge?" Nob asked as he grabbed a piece of cake."

"Let me cut the cake first," Lois insisted. "And use a plate."

"Oh, and here's your present, Son," Hal said as he handed Dewey a small package. "It's that new book you wanted to look at."

Dewey unwrapped the present quickly, then frowned. "This is the one you bought for me last week, with my own money."

"Is it?"

"Well, now you have two copies, in case you lose one," Lois told him.

"Why is Dewey crying?" Nob asked.

"This is the worst birthday I've ever had," Dewey sobbed.

Reese smirked. "He says that every year, Nob. Don't let it bother you. Later on, we'll show you how we give birthday smacks."

Draco watched the entire scene with amusement.

[_I know I should feel sorry for him, but it IS Dewey._]

*

Hermione nudged Ginny as Dewey walked past their room with another load of trash he had cleaned out. "Do you think Harry will come to his birthday party today? I haven't heard from him yet, and it is July 31."

Dewey walked by as though he had not heard a word. He met Ron who was coming out of another room with a load of trash of his own. "It's going to be a great party, Dewey. Have you ever been to a wizards birthday party. Harry will love it . . . if he shows up."

"I can come?" Dewey asked.

"You're a guest," Ron said softly as they tiptoed past the portraits. "You have to come, but don't worry You'll have a great time."

Dewey finished with his last pile of trash and went to the kitchen where Molly Weasley was putting up decorations while the cake was baking. Sirius Black was filling the cold box with butterbear and soft drinks of all kinds. He smiled at Dewey. "It's going to be a great party."

"I know Harry will love it," Dewey said evenly. Sirius gave him a quick smile as Molly winked.

Dewey finished all of his chores, and took his much needed bath. He put on his best robes and went to the kitchen for the birthday party. As he walked in the crowded room, he looked up to see Harry Potter standing by the door.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," Dewey said as cheerfully as he could.

Harry blurred and became the Metamorphmagus known as Tonks. "Wotcher, Dewey. Potter couldn't make it. It looks like we're not having a party after all."

"That's all right," Molly Weasley sighed as she held up a white frosted cake. I misspelled Harry's name, anyway. He would have been angry about that."

"Wait," Hermione said as though she had remembered something. "Dewey, isn't today your birthday as well?"

"Yeah," Dewey said carefully.

"A marvelous idea," Arthur Weasley said. "We'll make this his birthday party instead. Do you like Lemon Swirl Cake, Dewey?"

"It . . . It's my favorite."

"It's settled then," Molly Weasley said as she sat the cake on the table in front of the surprised boy. Surrounded by eleven candles were the words, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEWEY, in constantly changing red, yellow, green and blue colors.

"Make a wish," Ron said encouragingly.

Dewey closed his eyes and made a wish. He then blew out all of the candles. At that moment, an owl flew in though an open window and dropped an envelope on top of the cake. It was addressed to The Birthday Boy, In The Kitchen, 12 Grimmauld Place.

Dewey opened the letter. "I'm going to Hogwarts, I'm going to Hogwarts." Then he began to cry.

"What's wrong, dear?" Molly asked.

"This is the best birthday I've ever had," Dewey sobbed.

"And we haven't yet given him his presents," Tonks complained.

*

"Trust me," Malcolm told Mr. Herkabe as they walked through Heathrow Airport. "I've been going to school here for the past two years. I know how these people are."

"I wouldn't call it a school," Herkabe said rudely.

Malcolm ignored the comment. "It doesn't matter. I know the British slang. That's how you compliment a stranger and let them know you need help."

"I'd ask," Dennis offered, "but I'm only a wee lad. We don't like that."

Malcolm nodded. "Look, Mr. Herkabe, if you don't believe me, try it on . . . oh, that guy there. I know he lives around here."

Lionel Herkabe glared at Malcolm and the boy who was his medical coordinator. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and approached the overweight gentleman that Malcolm pointed out.

"Excuse me, Sir. You seem a respectable muggle. Do you know . . ."

Vernon Dursley exploded in anger. "How dare you! Your sort have no decency. Walking around like you own the place, interfering with decent hard working normal people, expecting to do whatever you want. Why don't you climb on your broom and fly back where you came from."

Vernon walked off mollified by the brisk round of applause he received while Lionel Herkabe was forced to deal with several comments from others about 'cheeky Yanks' and 'arrogant Americans'. Lionel looked back at Malcolm who smiled innocently.

"Excuse me," An airport security officer said as he approached the group. "Which one of you was causing the disturbance?"

"I assure you," Dorene said boldly, "that it wasn't any of us. We're all good God fearing Americans who have only come to your country to prove that our children are better and smarter than yours." She looked around, horrified at the words that came out of her mouth. It was what she had meant to say but not the way she meant to say it. "I didn't mean to insult you but I just can't help it." Dorene closed her mouth again then tried sincerely to apologize. "It's just that it's so easy for me to find fault with anything you do."

The security officer nodded. He turned to Lionel. "And are you the gentleman who was harassing the other passengers? I can see you are." He turned to David Winter. "And you are?"

"David Winter, I'm with the State Department. I, and my assistant, Alphonse, are escorting these children to a Scholastic program as part of cultural exchange initiative. I don't know who these people are. They walked up to us as we left the arrival platform."

Dorene didn't dare say anything, Lionel was too shocked to speak and Malcolm had successfully threatened Dabney to keep his mouth shut. The security officer signaled for help.

"These officers will escort your party through customs, Mr. Winter." As they walked away, the officer turned to the two remaining adults. "If you will follow me."

*

"Mum?" Dennis said with mixed feelings as he exited customs.

"Say goodbye to your friends, Dennis. You're weekend with Malcolm ended a long time ago."

"But Mum . . ."

"Don't but Mummy, me, little mister. You have two minutes to say goodbye."

Dennis turned sheepishly. "Bye, Malcolm."

"I warned you Dennis. It was only a matter of time until your parents compared notes."

"We knew a long time ago," Dennis's mother said. "Lois explained everything to us that first day."

David Winter was confused. "Then why did you wait until now to say something?"

"Are you bonkers?" Dennis asked. "I spent a month touring the United States, and my parents didn't have to spend a pound."

[_And now he's home and the party's over._]

David laughed. "And I thought you were the dummy of the group."

*

Malcolm had finished putting his clothes away when there was a knock on his hotel room door.

"I'll . . . get . . . it," his roommate said.

David Winter walked in with Alphonse. "Malcolm, I need to know what you did."

Malcolm looked at Alphonse and David nodded. "He figured it out on his own."

Alphonse smiled. "It was fun watching magic at work and knowing what it was."

David smiled as well. "Malcolm, what did you do to your teacher and how did you get around the restrictions on underage use of magic?"

Malcolm smiled in turn. "All I did was lie. I found out that fat guy knows about magic but hates it for some reason. I got Mr. Herkabe to arbitrarily approach him and call him a muggle." He looked curiously at his guardian. "You cast a befuddlement charm on Dabney's mom."

"Not any mere befuddlement charm. The spell caused her to say what she wanted but in the rudest terms possible."

"How can . . . you tell . . . if . . . it worked?" Stevie asked to general laughter.

"We work well together, Malcolm," David said and he held out his hand.

Malcolm took it. "We're on my home turf now. If you need any help, I know a couple of guys I can call."

*

"Francis," a familiar voice said.

"Eric? What are you doing here?"

"I finally got off work. That Lavernia is one mean . . ."

"I know. I met her."

"You're lucky you found another job. What are you doing?"

"I'm working for this guy Ralph."

Eric laughed. "The shaman? That guy doesn't do anything but sit around and mumble."

Francis took offense. "Yeah, well he also feeds me, gives me a warm place to sleep and pays me to do his chores."

Eric stared in surprise. "Do you mean that? Does he need more help?"

"I'll ask," Francis said. "Is Lavernia that bad?"

"She's worse than that."

"She's THAT bad?"

"She's even worse than that."

Francis put his hand on Eric's shoulder. "I'll say a prayer for you tonight."

"Thank you, Francis," Eric said as he began to cry. "Thank you, thank you."

"There, there," Francis said as he hugged Eric. "Just let it all out." He could only hope that no one was watching.

"HEY," someone yelled, "What are you two doing out there?"

"Hi, Pete. It's me, Francis."

"Yeah, you're the shaman's gopher. Who's your sweetheart?"

"That's not fair, Pete. Eric was telling me about his job with Lavernia."

Old Pete looked aghast. "I'm sorry, Eric. I didn't know. You just have a good cry, and when you're done, come inside and let your tears melt."

"You guys are great," Eric sobbed as he was transferred to Pete's shoulder and led to his cabin.

With them gone, Francis went back to his job of looking for snow worms. He had half a bucket already. At least he hoped he did.


	6. Memories

CHAPTER SIX: MEMORIES

  


Draco picked up the phone. "Yeah?"

"Um," the voice said at the other end. "Who is this?"

"Malcolm," Draco said in a clearly annoyed voice. "Who wants to know?"

"Um? Malcolm."

"What?" Now Draco was really annoyed.

"No, I'm Malcolm. Who are you?"

"I told you."

"Is my mom there?"

"Hold on. MOM, Malcolm is on the phone."

"I'll get it on the extension, Malcolm," Lois called out. She picked up the phone. "Malcolm, where are you?"

"London. Mom, who was that."

"That was Draco pretending to be you. Didn't you recognize your own voice?"

[_Draco's still there? It's been almost a month._]

"Mom, what is Draco doing there. Hasn't anybody noticed?"

"He's covering for you while you're gone. And no, nobody noticed. How are things going with your Olympic whatever?"

"We made the final round. It just us, the British kids and a bunch of kids from China."

"That's very good. You haven't been cheating?"

"Nooo, I just took Dumbledore's advice and put a happy face on everything, and it all seemed to work out."

"Well, try that at home sometime. I could do with seeing a few smiles around here. It's no picnic here, you know. You're off gallivanting around the globe while your father's starting a new job and I've got to work a Tesco's. Your schooling doesn't come cheap, you know. It's no free ride this year. Just remember that."

[_She always does this. I called to say hi, and I'm getting the lecture again._]

"Mom, I know all that. You've been telling that since I was five."

"I've been telling you longer than that. You only started listening when you were five. You're getting as bad a Francis. Call me again when you get a chance."

"Bye, Mom."

Lois hung up the phone and grabbed her purse. "Malcolm, Reese, watch the other kids. I'm off to work."

The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Master Malcolm. How are you doing?"

"Fine," Draco said. "Francis, is that you?"

"I arrived safe and sound, and I am industriously employed. Are the parental units around?"

"Mom just left for work, and Dad isn't home yet. Give him another hour."

"Just let them know I called. I don't have much time. I'll write a letter and tell you guys everything as soon as I find a bird to deliver it. I was hoping to spot a penguin."

"Are you at the South Pole?"

Frances sounded confused.. "No. Why would you say that?"

"Because that's where you find penguins."

"Are you sure?"

"Hermione Granger told me even though I didn't ask her."

"Oh, no wonder I haven't found one. Well, I'll get a letter to you somehow. Bye."

Draco hung up the phone. Then he remembered something he had almost forgotten.

[_That's right. I'm Draco Malfoy. No wonder I was so confused when Malcolm called._]

*

"You did pretty good on the snow worms, Francis."

"Thanks, Ralph. I did feel kind of stupid."

"You'll get the hang of it."

"Ralph, can I ask a personal question?"

"Sure."

"If you're an Eskimo, why are you called Ralph?"

"Probably because I was born in Brooklyn."

"Is there a large Eskimo community in Brooklyn."

"Nope, just my mom and dad. They were one of the first property owners up here to find oil on their land. They decided to take a winter vacation somewhere warm and fell in love with the Big Apple. After they moved there, Dad put his money in a startup business that took off and he lives off the dividends."

"That's great. What's his business called?"

"Microsoft. He's only a minor partner so he isn't even in the top thousand of the richest men in the world list. He's close though. I think he's number 1006."

"Oh? Then why are you a shaman?"

"I found out I had a talent for it, not that there's much use for a shaman these days. Now, when people get sick they don't try to have the demons driven out, they go to the drugstore and get some aspirin. It's easier and cheaper."

"So what do you do."

"Teach when I get the chance. There's a lot to be said for learning for the pleasure of learning. It's not like I'm one of those fancy wizards or anything, or I really have to work for a living. I'm just a regular guy. I'm not even an Eskimo, anymore."

"What a minute, Ralph. I can follow everything else but why aren't you an Eskimo?"

"Government. Back in the 70's and 80's they got on this kick and we became Native Americans. Now, we're all called Indians. Sometimes they get fancy and call us Inuits. If you call me an Eskimo it's called Racial Profiling. Go figure."

Francis nodded his head and went back to work.

* 

Dewey stopped in the course of his work. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Dewey?"

"Thanks for that book you gave me. It is interesting even though it didn't have any pictures."

"You're welcome," Hermione said with an amused smile.

"I'm curious," Dewey said pointing at the two piles of trash she and Ginny were carrying. "Why do you always carry more trash out? Is it because you're older."

"I hadn't noticed, but that is probably the right answer."

As Dewey went on his way, Hermione looked at the two piles they were carrying. "I do have more in my pile," she said in a serious tone.

"Are you accusing me of doing less work?" Ginny asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

"No, I wasn't," Hermione responded in a similar voice. "I was merely making a comment. Or are you feeling guilty about something?"

Oblivious to what was going on behind him, Dewey headed up the stairs and passed the twins wiping down the walls. "Thanks, George, for those great candies. I can't wait to try them out on people. Or should I be thanking Fred."

"You could thank either of us," Fred offered. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh," Dewey said thoughtfully. "I read somewhere that one twin usually takes charge and the other one just kind of follows along. I guess you two guys are different."

"No, we're pretty much the same," George laughed.

"That's why we're twins," Fred added.

Dewey headed down the hall and into the room he was assigned to clean.

"You missed a spot, George," Fred said mischievously.

"You're not trying to take charge?" George said with a touch of humor.

"Perhaps I should," Fred answered, casually. "Someone needs to see the job done correctly."

"Well," George said pointedly, "based upon your past record, it should be me."

"I see. You heard what Dewey said, and decided that you should be the boss."

"Maybe it's because I'm finally getting tired of you bossing me around all the time."

"ME? You're the one who's always insisting that he's right."

By the time Dewey passed by them on his way to throw out more trash, Fred and George were silently scowling at each other.

"Hi, guys."

"Hi, Dewey."

"You would have to say Hi, first."

"There's nothing stopping you from being polite, except maybe ignorance."

"Bye guys," Dewey said hastily as he walked quickly away. He hurried down the stairs to the next level when he heard yelling from the room ahead of him.

"Ginny, it is possible for you to do a little more around here."

"Now you're trying to claim that you do everything. I grab one less piece of paper one time . . . "

"One time? How about EVERY time."

"Take that back."

Dewey hurried past in fear and ran into Arthur Weasley running up the stairs.

"Dewey, do you know what is going on between those two girls?"

"No, Sir, but Fred and George are doing the same thing on the next floor. It's scaring me."

"Don't you worry. I'll sort this out in no time. Why don't you go to the kitchen and tell Molly you need a cookie break?"

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley," Dewey said with a genuine smile. The boy ran down the stairs as quietly as he could (because of the screaming portraits), put the load he was carrying into the trash pile and went to the kitchen.

"Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley said I needed a cookie break."

"And you're right on time," Molly said. "The gingerbread men have cooled off enough to eat."

Dewey caught one of the gingerbread men and took a glass of milk that Molly poured for him. "You have a real nice house, Mrs. Weasley. It'll look great once we finish cleaning it."

"Thank you, dear, but the house belongs to Sirius." Molly nodded to where the dark haired man was trying to prod something from under the floor boards. "Did you get it, Sirius."

"Fatty, Fatty, Fatso," a voice shouted.

"Almost," Sirius said. "I have no idea how a jarvey ended up here, but it explains why there aren't any gnomes.

"Watch it, buttbreath," The voice shouted as Sirius gave a cry of triumph. He pulled a ferret-like creature out from the floorboards and put it into a waiting cage.

"I'll ask Arthur to take it out to the country when he has a chance," Molly offered.

"I can ask him," Sirius said with amusement. "After all, it is my house."

"I was only trying to be helpful,"Molly said with a smile. "After all, I do know how to clean a house."

"Not that it's your house," Sirius said calmly.

"I've got to go," Dewey said quickly as he sat down his glass and the partially eaten gingerbread man and left the kitchen. The gingerbread man ran around aimlessly as his head had been bitten off until he came to the cage, and to the jarvey.

*

Lois walked into the house happy to be done with work only to see a problem at the kitchen table.

"Malcolm? Why didn't you go to the beach with your brothers? Are you feeling OK?"

Draco brushed her hand from his forehead. "I don't have a fever. I feel fine. That's not the problem."

"And the problem is?"

"The problem is that I've been forgetting who I am, who I really am."

Lois sat down across from Draco. "Then we'll solve that problem right now. Tell me about yourself."

"What?"

"Tell me about Draco Malfoy. Your oath won't stop you from doing that because I already know who you are. If you talk about yourself it will help to keep you from forgetting."

[_Mom always does that. She never understands anything until it's really important. Then she seems to know what to do._]

"That's a great idea."

[_Of course, after I spill my guts she's going to find a way to humiliate me with it._]

Lois smiled. "So, who are you?"

"I am Draco Malfoy." Draco laughed. "It feels strange saying that. It doesn't seem real."

Lois smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Draco. Do you go to school."

He laughed again. "You know I do. Hogwarts." This September I'll be a third year in Gry - No, that's Malcolm. I'm Draco. I'll be a fifth year in . . . Slytherin." He laughed again. "This is harder than I thought it would be."

"You've been thinking like Malcolm. After that, thinking like yourself should be almost impossible."

"It should."

"Tell me about your friends," Lois prodded.

"Friends? There's not much to talk about. There's Crabbe and Goyle. Everyone thinks they're dumb, but they've got good hearts. They're loyal friends." Draco frowned. "They're better than I deserve. The truth is, I deserve to have someone like Weasley as a friend. I'm not worth much more than that."

"They are my neighbors, and I am prejudiced," Lois pointed out, "but why do you think so little of yourself?"

"There isn't much to think about. Father refuses to admit it, but I'm a disappointment to him." Draco stifled a sob. "That's why I left home for the summer. Father wants everything to be perfect. He always wants a show of strength. He always hates it that Mudblood Granger gets better marks than I do. And he always acts as though it's my fault. He pushed me to become Seeker on our Quidditch team, because that Potter is a Seeker. I've always been a Chaser or a Keeper. I'm an excellent Keeper. And when I fail, he blames me."

"And when you do good?"

"I always get a loud harumph and 'What do you expect from me? Praise for doing what you are supposed to?'" Draco looked up at Lois as a tear escaped his eye. "He found out about Basil."

Lois quickly put her hand on his. "I'm sorry, Draco."

"He found out that I had been seeing him, and that Malcolm came along . . . and Ginny Weasley. He wouldn't stop yelling at me. He threatened to pull me out of school. Mother stopped him. I don't know why. She likes to keep me close, but she doesn't love me. I think she sees me as a tool for controlling Father. Her family always liked to be in control of things. So I left home."

"And you ran into this mess," Lois added.

"This mess?" Draco forced a smile. "This isn't a mess. This is Paradise. You asked about my friends. I didn't tell you about my best friend. He's younger than me, but he is smarter. He doesn't know what to do with a tenth of what he knows, but if he ever learns and takes something to heart, he'll make the world shake. Malcolm gave my world a light, and I can't explain why. When we first met and I talked with him, we actually talked. It was as though we had an instant bond. Something almost familiar that we shared. I once said that he was the brother I never had."

Lois had to laugh. "You think of Malcolm as a brother?"

Draco snorted. "YES. I do. Why is that so funny?"

"I've been trying to figure out why you got involved in all of this. Why you made that stupid Wizard's Oath to take Malcolm's place. Arthur Weasley was only doing that to try something out for his job with the government. It wasn't important."

"It wouldn't of worked anyway," Draco pointed out. "The guy they sent over looked nothing like Malcolm. He would have lasted a minute, maybe less."

"But you jumped at the chance to help Malcolm," Lois reminded him.

"It was Malcolm." Draco then pointed out, "and it was only supposed to be for an hour. I didn't plan on Nob's little trick, either."

"So you got more than you bargained for."

"With Malcolm, that usually happens." Draco gave an honest laugh, his earlier pain forgotten for a moment. "And I fell in love. With all of this. With the way you live, the yelling the fighting, everything. I fell in love with you, Mom . . . I mean . . ."

"Mom is fine, or call me Lois."

"Thanks, uh, Lo . . . uh, Mom."

Draco smiled sheepishly as Lois arched an eyebrow at his choice of address.

"Tell me, Draco. How did you manage to fall in love with us? Everyone thinks we're the original family from Hell."

"That would be mine, if you want to know the truth. You're only misunderstood, but I realized that's because you don't try to explain yourselves. You yell, you scream, you threaten us, and one more thing, you drop everything if one of us, even your fake son, has a problem. You loved me, even though I didn't belong to you." This time Draco reached out and took Lois's hand.

"Love is the easiest thing in the world to give, Draco. You don't have to thank me for that. The hard part is trying to make all of you appreciate it."

Lois and Draco smirked at each other.

"You're wrong, Mom," Draco said in a serious tone. "Love isn't easy. Not in my family. I don't think anyone loved anyone else. My mother and father married because of who their families were, and how much money they had." Draco looked up with a wry smile. "Would you like a perfect example of what my family is like?"

"Let's have it."

"I'll have to tell you about my Grandfather first. He was a philanderer. When he was younger he had affairs with anyone, even after he was married. When Father was born, Grandfather had a paternity spell cast to show who his father was. He figured that, since he was cheating on Grandmother, she was probably doing the same."

"Nice man," Lois said sarcastically. "He reminds me of people in my own family."

Draco laughed as he continued. "I remember when I was little how Grandfather would brag about his conquests, even if Grandmother was sitting there. And he'd always end the same way. He would become very serious and say, 'then my daughter was born, and I came back to my wife to raise my very own little girl.'"

[_That's a funny look Mom just gave me._]

"You have an aunt?" Lois asked. "What is she like?"

"I had an aunt," Draco amended. "Grandfather spoiled her so much that no one else could stand her. When he died, he left everything to her. The money, Malfoy Mansion, EVERYTHING."

Lois was surprised. "The house we visited? I thought that belonged to your father."

"It does. Now. Father contested the will on the grounds that his sister was illegitimate, and not a full relation. Grandmother even presented proof that she had faked the results of a paternity spell, and swore that my Aunt's real father was the former gardener. The man acknowledged the affair and presented the results of a paternity spell as proof. My Aunt ended up with nothing. I don't even know what happened to her. It's been almost ten years."

"That is amazing! Your grandfather doted on this girl and she wasn't even his?"

"She was his," Draco informed her. "The proof of forging the spell results was from the analysis of the gardener's spell. The labels were exchanged somehow. The gardener and his wife retired to a wonderful country home that they were suddenly able to afford. And Grandmother has exclusive use of our Chateau near Marseilles, as well as a more than comfortable stipend to live on."

Draco looked at Lois and grinned. "What do you think of my loving family, now?"

"I think you do deserve a vacation," Lois told him. "It's still early enough. Why don't you go to the beach for a couple of hours anyway. We'll have Pizza when everybody gets back."

Draco readily agreed but stopped when he stood up. "Mom, thanks. For everything."

After Draco left, Lois walked out to the back yard and took the path that led to the Burrow. She knocked on the door several times, smiling in relief when the door opened.

"Hello. You must be the new neighbor. I'm Bill Weasley. I'm house sitting for my folks for a few days."

"Hi, I'm Lois, and I'm sorry to bother you. Molly told me you might be here, and I need a favor. Do you know how to cast a paternity spell?"

"Are you pregnant?" Bill asked with a confused smile. "Or is it for someone else?"

"No, and it's for me."

Bill paused. "Let me ask someone at St. Mungo's. I can only tell you what I've heard and most of that is from my schooldays. Why don't you come in?"

*

Lois was very calm during dinner, which made everyone nervous. As soon as possible, everyone left the table.

"Malcolm, I need to talk to you."

"Do you need me," Hal asked and ran out of the room when she told him no.

"I didn't do it."

"I didn't accuse you of anything. I said I wanted to talk to you. I need a favor from you."

[_Do you see what she's doing? I spilled my guts and now she's going to embarrass me._]

"What favor?"

"I need you to go with me to the Burrow to talk to Bill Weasley and a friend of his."

"Why, I said I didn't do anything."

[_She means it. I did do something._]

"Why?"

"I'll tell you on the way over."

While they walked over to the Burrow Draco listened carefully as Lois explained what she needed and why. Then he asked, "do you mean that?"

"I do. Will you do it?"

"Yeah. Now you've got me wondering."

*

"Draco?" Dr. Lydia Spencer asked. "You've changed."

"You know?"

"Lois and I talked about you, after Bill Weasley discreetly left. He took Dewey out for some Pizza."

"I should be thankful for small favors."

"Are you ready? This won't hurt and it won't take long. And I should tell you, Dewey already knows the results. He is another interesting problem I get to deal with."

"I thought Arthur Weasley was taking care of him?" Draco looked at Lois, who smiled, then back to Dr. Spencer.

"They had problems. Bill was going to watch him, but I talked Dewey into spending some time with me at the hospital until school begins. In exchange for doing some tests, we offered to buy his school supplies for his first year."

Draco laughed. "I don't believe Dewey agreed to that."

Lois laughed. "I agreed to that. Dewey cried for ten minutes, then gave up when he realized he had no choice."

"Are we ready," Lydia Spencer asked?

The spell was cast. The results were analyzed. Ten minutes later, Lois returned to her home with her nephew in tow. Draco was in a state of surprise.

[_I told you she'd do something to embarrass me._]


	7. Returning Home

CHAPTER SEVEN: RETURNING HOME

  


"What are you doing?" a soft voice asked.

"I'm sitting here," Francis said as he looked up to see a Native American girl his age. He would have seen an Eskimo girl but he was learning to be politically correct.

"That was an informative answer. Why?"

"I'm being paid to. Ralph told me that I needed to have a life changing experience, and to sit here until it happens."

The girl laughed. "You're Uncle Renakka's new gopher."

Francis looked offended. "He told me his name was Ralph."

The girl laughed again. "And he told you he grew up in Los Angeles."

"No," Francis said carefully. "Brooklyn. And that his father was rich."

"Uncle Renakka definitely found a gullible boy this time."

"Not any more," Francis said, "I quit."

"And what are you going to do now," The girl smirked as she looked Francis in the eye.

"You're beautiful," Francis said as he took her hand into his.

"I'm happy that you think so," the girl said as she squeezed his hand warmly.

"I know we just met but will you marry me?"

"That's a smooth line," the girl commented, then paused. "Sure."

As they ran to the chapel, Francis asked, "By the way, what's your name?"

*

"Are you Malcolm?" the young lady asked.

"I didn't do it."

"Didn't do what?"

[_Oops._]

"Nothing. Do you want something?"

"I'm covering the Academic Olympics for my newspaper." She showed Malcolm her credentials. "I was looking for a human interest story and your name came up."

"Why are you covering this? We had the National Finals in Washington, DC. Nobody bothered to cover that."

The reporter nodded. "You are smart to pick up on that. The editor's niece is on the British team, and he promised her she would see her name in print."

"Oh, so this really is a human interest story, and I'm the human you're interested in."

"You are right on your first try."

"And why me? You're British. Shouldn't you have picked a British kid."

"I should, but you are much more interesting."

[_This doesn't sound good._]

"How do you mean that?"

"Well, I made a few phone calls, and I found out that your house exploded near the end of May."

"Nobody was home at the time, and the police said it was a gas line."

"Actually, they said probably a gas line. To quote one officer, 'in view of the family's history we cannot rule out other possibilities'."

"I was at school, lady," Malcolm said angrily. "You can't accuse me."

"I'm not accusing you of anything. I wanted to point out why you seemed an interesting person to interview. The police have a rather extensive file on your family."

"That's confidential information."

"Yes, it is, and several of them can't help but talk about it. Did you know that there is a web site on the internet about your family. I think it's run by a local church. They have newspaper stories dating back years. Last year, your neighbor's house caught fire under suspicious circumstances. There have been numerous public reports of loud explosions and other unexplained noises. There was another fire the previous year, and a car fire the year before that. Would you like to hear my personal favorite?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Eight years ago, another neighbor's garage exploded. Traces of chemicals were found. Two boys, one estimated as ten and the other as five, were spotted in the vicinity. Would that have been your missing brother Francis, and you?"

"Francis isn't missing. He had himself emancipated and he went off to live on his own."

"What did you use to make the bomb?"

"It wasn't a bomb. It was a chemical conversion device. It was supposed to contain the reaction. It's not my fault it ruptured."

[_I know what you're thinking but it's past the statute of limitations. I always check on these things._]

Malcolm and the reporter grinned at each other. The reporter made a notation in her pad. "This will be a wonderful story, Malcolm. A lost child who found his way out of darkness and redeemed himself in the eyes of his neighbors and friends."

"Ask whatever you want. I promise to be completely honest, even if the answer is 'I can't tell you for legal reasons'."

The reporter laughed again. "Thank you, Malcolm. Please tell me, where does your family live, now that your old house has been destroyed? One of your friends said it was near the beach south of here, but he seemed confused when I asked him to be more specific."

[_That would be Lloyd._]

"Right now, we are living in England, near Ottery St. Catchpole . . ."

"Excuse me," A voice said from behind them. "I'm Harold Hinkle, one of the judges in this contest. Did you say that you live in England?"

"It's only until I finish school here. You see, our house . . ."

"No, I don't see. When did you move here?"

"I guess the end of June, just over a month ago."

"And you did read our requirements to participate? For example, the section that states that you must be an active resident of the school district that you represent."

"Uh, No."

"Excuse me," the reporter said. "They should still own the property. That would count as an active residence until they legally declare otherwise."

[_Hey, I really like this lady._]

"It does, Madam," Hinkle replied. "But the boy clearly stated that he goes to school here. That means he does not attend the Krelboyne school."

"And that means?" the reporter asked while Malcolm looked on.

"Disqualification. The American team is no longer competing. I will inform the other judges."

"I'm sorry, Malcolm," The reporter said as the judge walked away.

"You're sorry? I've been trying to figure out how to get out of this thing for the past month."

[_Do you believe that. I finally found a legitimate way out of all this on the last day._]

"It should still be a good story," Malcolm offered. "Bad kid proves he hasn't learned."

"Only for the crime report," the reporter said. "You were right. I should have picked one of the British children."

"Hey," Malcolm called as the reporter started to leave. "The editor's niece. How wit and wisdom pops up close to home."

"I'll use the word sprout instead of pops up, but it is a good idea. Good luck at school."

Malcolm walked back to the waiting group of Krelboynes and David Winter."

"Thank you, Malcolm," Mr. Winter said. "This was all for nothing."

"We had fun," Malcolm offered.

"Fun?" Dabney screamed, "You had my mother deported . . ."

"She'll be home when you get there," Malcolm explained. "Don't sweat it."

" . . . to Argentina," Dabney concluded.

[_Okay, I went a little overboard on that one. At least Mr. Herkabe went with her._]

"I am surprised," David Winter commented. "As smart as all of you are supposed to be, not one of you noticed that Malcolm was not eligible to participate."

"It was . . . a . . . calculated . . . risk."

*

"Thanks . . . for letting . . . me visit," Stevie said.

"You'll like this place," Malcolm explained. "It's a lot bigger than our old house. It has three floors as well as a basement. Plus we live right next door to Ginny's family."

"She was the one who was arrested the last time she visited you," David Winter commented.

"Yeah, but it didn't go on her record."

"How's . . . Draco?"

"He's probably half crazy by now. Mom says that he's still at our house pretending to be me."

David shook his head. "Malcolm, Draco Malfoy looks nothing like you."

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "Mom said that nobody noticed."

The Knight Bus screeched to a halt as the driver called out the stop.

"This is it," David announced. "I do hope your mother has some coffee made."

*

Draco sat at the edge of the road, looking at nothing in particular. Malcolm would be home sometime today.

[_I've had a wonderful time but I would really like to be me again._]

"Ah, Malcolm," a familiar voice said from the shadows.

[_That's . . . Father?_]

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"Please don't be frightened. I mean you no harm, dear boy. I simply wanted to assure you that you were safe."

"You came here to tell me I was safe? How did you even find me?"

"I asked a friend in high places. But there is a reason why I wanted to talk to you, in private."

"Go ahead," Draco said carefully.

"The Master realizes his mistake and wants to make it up to you, but I told him there was no possible way he could do that, after how much he had hurt you. He wants to admit his error and told me that you need never fear his wrath again. He was wrong and wishes to compensate you." Lucius smiled. "I made a suggestion which he accepted, and I think will make all of us happy."

[_I'm going to hate this._]

"Remember when I told you that you would be sponsored as long as you attended those seminars? The Master is willing to continue to sponsor your education, no strings attached. Isn't that good news?"

"What's the catch?"

"Catch? Do you mean what is gained by this. I'll go down the list. The Dark Lord has time to present his position to you in a reasonable manner, and hopefully downplay his actions from when he was freshly restored, and not completely in control of himself. I have the pleasure of looking good in his eyes, and helping your family avoid the stigma of poverty that the Weasleys have. And you get what you want the most. Money."

"Does this mean that I can still be friends with Draco?"

Lucius Malfoy widened his grin. "Of course. Isn't that obvious."

[_He never even thought of that._]

"Well . . ." Draco said thoughtfully.

[_On the other hand, I can still be friends with Malcolm. I mean, openly. After all, I'm the one who's getting him the money. It's not like he's agreeing to this himself. Everybody only thinks he is. That makes it okay. Right?_]

". . . I'll consider it but, you should know that I know things, Malfoy family things, like St. Mungo's, and my knowledge is up to date."

"And you want?"

"Forgive Draco, and put it all behind you."

"You know where he is?"

"He's close. He told you he went to the beach."

Malfoy gave a look of surprise, then of humor as he understood where his son had gone. "Very well, Master Malcolm. I will forgive him his indiscretions, and I will bury the thoughts. Do we have a deal?"

"One more thing."

"And what is it?"

"Buy him a back-to-school gift. It doesn't have to be expensive or anything, but it has to be something that you honestly think he will like."

"That is an odd request, but I will agree, as long as there are no more conditions."

"That's it."

"Then it is agreed. You will find an account in your name with the modest sum of one thousand galleons. That should more than see you through the school year. If you need additional funds, tell Draco, and also give him a very good reason."

Draco and Lucius Malfoy shook hands, and Lucius disapparated.

[_I know what I did sounds stupid but I am curious what father will get me._]

Draco looked up at a sudden noise as the Knight bus appeared.

Malcolm stepped off the bus to look himself in the eye. "Draco?"

"Welcome back. Nobody missed you, thanks to me. Mom's waiting for us. Hi, Stevie. Hey, Mr. Winter."

"You . . . look . . . different."

"You do look exactly like Malcolm," David commented as they walked and rolled across the unkempt lawn. Malcolm gave him a confused look.

[_What's he talking about? Draco looks nothing like me. My nose isn't that big. And his eyes look all goofy. At least his hair color is close._]

As they approached the front door, Dewey opened it and let them in.

"Hi, Malcolm."

"Hi, Dewey. What happened to you? You must be at least three inches taller from when I saw you last."

"Really," Dewey said angrily, "Do you really think I grew three inches in only a month? Or maybe I did it over a year? Do you think you might have something to do with it?"

"What are you talking about you little creep. I just got home. I didn't do anything to you."

"You will," Dewey fumed.

"Good, you're back," Lois said, "Go upstairs and unpack. Throw your dirty clothes in the laundry, and take a bath."

[_It's good to see you, too, Mom._]

Lois nodded to David Winter. "Thanks for taking care of him, Dave. I do appreciate it. I have some coffee in the kitchen. Hi, Stevie. How's your family."

"Fine . . . Dad misses . . . Hal . . . for poker."

"And we have more money because of it," Lois laughed.

[_That's great. I'm home two minutes and it's Malcolm do this, Malcolm do that. Everybody else gets to relax. I don't know why I was in such a hurry to get back._]

[_Look at him, the lucky stiff. He's home two minutes and he slips right back into a routine, like he never left._]

"Uh, Mom."

Lois looked down. "David, could you cancel a spell for us. Nob had one of his accidents, and Draco has been stuck playing Malcolm for too long."

"Nob?" David laughed. "I shouldn't be surprised. Where is the young elf."

"Hal took him and Dewey to the beach. They don't know about Draco. Well, Nob does, but he's only five."

"Mom," Malcolm pointed out, "Dewey is right here."

"Not that me, the ten year old me," Dewey sneered. "And it's your fault."

"There was an accident," Lois explained. "Dewey is also eleven." Then she smiled. "That means he'll be going to school with you this year. He already got his letter."

[_But that's what I liked about school. My family was never around. Well, hardly ever._]

"Mom, you're joking."

"No, I'm not. You're going to school with Dewey in September. You're taking a bath in the next ten minutes. And Dave?"

"Yes," said a surprised David Winter who glanced down at a thoroughly amused Stevie Kenarben. He turned to Draco and pulled out his wand. "Finite Incantatum."

The figure of Malcolm shimmered briefly, and Draco Malfoy appeared as himself. "I'm me again," he shouted happily. "Thank you, Aunt Lois. I mean that. Thank you for everything."

[_Aunt Lois?_]

Draco turned around angrily. "Malcolm, I will never offer to do you a favor again, you worthless git. Do you know what I went through? Puberty."

"So did I," Malcolm said defensively.

"This was my SECOND time. I did NOT appreciate that."

"Malcolm. Bath." Lois turned to Dewey. "Are you packed?"

"Yes," Dewey pouted.

Malcolm stopped climbing the stairs. "Where's Dewey going?"

"St. Mungo's," Lois answered. "They want to do some tests on him."

[_Hey, being home isn't so bad, after all._]

*

Malcolm was sitting at the kitchen table with the entire family plus David Winter, Stevie and Draco. David Winter kept glancing at Nob, curious as to how the house elf transformed himself into a human boy, and wondering why he picked Malcolm as his role model.

"So . . . Draco . . . How is it . . . that you . . . and Malcolm . . . are cousins?"

"It seems we have a common grandfather."

"But we still don't get any money," Reese said.

"I like having rich relatives," Dewey said. "Tell your dad that he missed my birthday."

"I'll tell him," Draco grinned. "But don't hold your breath."

"We can work on him," Reese said with authority. "He'll come around."

As everyone finished eating, there was a hesitant knock at the door.

"Reese, get the door," Hal said.

"Malcolm," Reese said as he hit him in the arm, "get the door."

"You get it," Malcolm said hitting him back.

"NO FIGHTING AT THE TABLE," Lois shouted calmly. "Forget it. I'll get the door." She got up and walked to the front door and opened it.

"I . . . I was hoping Draco was here," a nervous but confidant Lucius Malfoy said.

Lois smiled as she realized there was still one person that she hadn't told about her new relatives.

"Come in, Lucius," Lois said in as friendly a voice as she could. Malfoy failed to notice the signal that he should become very afraid. Then Lois called out, "Draco, could you come here, please.?" With pleasure she watched Lucius's expression when Draco returned the now standard reply, "Coming, Aunt Lois."

Lucius Malfoy, to his credit, remained calm despite every drop of blood leaving his face. After several minutes, during which Hal checked to make sure he was still breathing, Lucius softly asked, "Father?" and cringed when Lois nodded.

After Lucius regained his composure, he called Draco to him, conscious that everyone, including three people he had never seen before, where watching.

"Draco, Son, I've forgiven you any and all of your past . . . indiscretions, and," he added, hoping it would make him look good, "I am asking you to forgive mine. Let all of that be in the past."

"They are all forgotten, Father," Draco said hopefully.

Lucius smiled, making it a point to smile at everyone, including the black boy in the wheelchair, and the strange little boy who looked like a miniature Malcolm. "And I brought you a small gift. Something to take with you when you return to Hogwarts." Lucius held out a foot-long box about three inches wide and one inch deep. Draco opened the box and pulled out a writing quill, the feathers on which immediately turned a bright pink.

"It's a Mood Quill," Lucius explained. "It changes color according to whatever mood you are in at the moment. Pink means that you are surprised. Pleasantly, I hope."

"I am," Draco said as he stared at the completely stupid gift. He gingerly put it back in the box. "Thank you, Father. I will always think of you when I use this."

Lucius beamed at the compliment. He turned to Lois and said, "I don't wish to overstay my welcome. I know you do not appreciate my being here, after what happened."

"Do you mean kidnaping their son and almost killing him? Or blowing up their house?" David Winter smiled as Malfoy paled slightly.

"I didn't have anything to do with either of those things," Lucius said strongly. "And Malcolm was supposed to have been invited, not kidnaped. Malcolm will tell you that I did try to correct the situation as soon as I found out, and what happened after that was . . . unexpected."

"Then why are you here?" David asked.

"I simply wanted to remind . . . my sister . . . that we had an agreement concerning his education, Malcolm and I, and that I have kept my part." He gave Malcolm a knowing look.

[_What was that for?_]

"Malcolm will find sufficient funds in his account at Gringotts to cover all of his expenses. All I require is that he continues his education. After all, I am a man of my word, regardless of what other people think." The last line was said with a determined look at David Winter.

"Uncle Lucius?" Nob said in the ensuing silence. "My birthday is on Hallowe'en. I'd like a broom, please."

Dewey hit Nob in the arm. "I was going to ask for a broom."


	8. Diagon Alley Revisited

CHAPTER EIGHT: DIAGON ALLEY REVISITED

  


"I've been thinking," Hal said as he and Lois climbed into bed.

"I'm too tired," Lois said.

"It wasn't that."

"Oh," Lois said with sudden interest.

"It's the boys. They're getting older. Francis has run off somewhere on his own. Malcolm and Big Dewey are going away to school, even though Little Dewey will still be here. (I haven't really figured that one out). The house is getting pretty empty."

"We still have Reese, and Little Dewey and Nob. That's quite a handful, Hal."

That's the beauty of my idea. Because of what happened to our old house, these people are bending over backwards to help us."

"Hal," Lois said in an annoyed tone, "what is this great idea?"

"Boarding School."

"We can't send Little Dewey, and Nob is too young. We can only send Reese. We'll still be stuck with two kids."

"You're right," Hal said. "It doesn't matter if we have two or three kids at home full time. I mean . . ."

Hal's reverie was broken by the sound of plates breaking, and Reese yelling, "Quit sneaking up on me you little brat. I'm trying to be quiet."

Dewey's voice followed. "I'm following you, you jerk. I want some, too."

"Are there cookies?" Nob asked.

Lois turned to Hal. "Boarding School sounds wonderful." She glanced at the bedroom door as the sound of something falling over could be heard. "Hal?"

Hal grumbled as he got out of bed. "I'll take care of it, but you'd better not be tired when I get back."

"It's a Deal."

*

"I want to go to Diagon Alley," Dewey complained.

"You can't go," Hal explained. "We have to register you at your new school. You'll be going with Nob," he added excitedly. "You get to be an older brother."

"I didn't even want to be a younger brother," Dewey pointed out with remarkable passion.

"Well, too bad," Lois said, "you're stuck with what you get. It could have been worse."

[_We're in trouble. Mom's about to give us the lecture._]

"Look at Stevie Kenarben. You won't find a nicer boy around, but he has to use a wheelchair. Don't tell me he has a perfect life. And what about Draco Malfoy. His father is probably the richest wizard in the country, and you saw what Draco got as a present. You wouldn't even take that quill when he tried to give it to you. Or you could have been that Potter kid, growing up in a closet all his life. Look at all the trouble he gets into. Be lucky you have the family you have, it could be worse."

"You're right, Mom. I'm sorry."

"I'm not done with you yet, little mister," Lois said.

Hal pointed to his watch. "The time, Honey. We don't want to be late."

"Okay, Dewey, you get a reprieve . . ."

"Yeah!"

" . . . go get your brother."

"Mom, Nob is hiding in the attic," Dewey pointed out.

Lois looked up in surprise. "Reese, did you tell him he was going to be auctioned off to a new family? I warned you about that after you said that to Dewey."

"I didn't do anything," Reese complained.

"I'll get him," Hal said. I've done it twice already."

[_That was fun. Francis told Reese that when he first went to school, and Reese went and hid. And I told Dewey and Dewey went and hid. I bet Dewey was the one who told Nob._]

"Mom, I'm supposed to be at the Weasleys. Bill's taking me to Diagon Alley."

[_I should tell you that Reese told me they were going to auction me off to a new family. And I believed him. I was up and ready before the alarm went off._]

Malcolm paused as he thought about his foster brother and where he had come from. "Dad, I better get Nob."

Hal held up his hand. "No, I'll get him. It's the one thing I'm good at."

Hal ran up the stairs all the way to the attic which was no more than a large crawl space. He paused to listen for crying. "Nob? Don't you want to go to school?"

"I'm not going to school," Nob cried.

"Not today. You're only going to sign up. It's not like we're going to try and auction you off or something. We tried that with Dewey. Nobody would take him. I'm not going through that embarrassment again."

"You're n-not," Nob's scared voice came from behind some boxes. "I thought, because I was . . ."

"You're family," Hal pointed out. "And that's the thing about this family. We'll yell at each other and say almost anything, but once you're a part of this family, you're stuck with us. And we're stuck with you." Hal paused. "Besides, I lied about Dewey and the auction."

"You lied?" Nob asked as his teary face popped up.

"And I guess Dewey lied to you, just like Malcolm lied to him. It's a right of passage."

"A what?"

"It's something that seemed fun to do at the time. C'mon, son, let's get you cleaned up."

Nob was still crying. "Malcolm said it's not real."

"What's not real?"

"I'm not really your son. That I won't be unless I'm adopted."

"When did Malcolm tell you this?"

"He told Dobby. I was standing there."

"Oh, at the school," Hal said as he managed to grab Nob and pull him into a hug. "That doesn't mean it's not real. You're our son because we love you. All that . . . stuff that Malcolm said was just government paperwork. It 's nonsense that some lazy clerk designed because he had nothing better to do so he decided to waste my time filling out forms. Like that luxury tax on my car. You've seen that car. Does that look like a luxury to you. No. But I have to fill out seventeen different forms so they know that, when they could just come down and take a look for themselves. They're like clones of that French skunk, Pepe Le Pew. He thinks he's so clever but you can smell him a mile away. He's pure evil, I can tell you that." He turned to Nob and smiled. "I'll ask Malcolm handle the paperwork. He'll tell us if we should even bother."

Nob stared dry eyed. He had stopped paying attention when Hal mentioned the lazy clerk. Now an answer was expected of him. "OK?"

"It's settled then. Let's get you ready for your first visit to the school."

They went downstairs and said goodbye to Malcolm, who whispered something to make Nob laugh.

As Malcolm turned to leave, Nob said loudly to Dewey, "I hope I get a real good family."

"What are you talking about, Honey?" Lois asked.

[_I told him to say that._]

Hal looked up. "I need to tell Malcolm something. I'll be right back."

"What do you need to tell him?" Lois asked.

"I forget, but I'll remember in a moment."

Hal caught up to Malcolm as he was about to knock on the Weasley's door. "We need to talk about Nob."

"Sure, Dad. What about him?"

"Well, he was upset because of what Dewey told him about being auctioned off. It's because he's, well, your know."

"A house elf. I know, Dad. I was the one who explained it to you.'

Hal nodded sincerely. "And that's why I can talk to you. It seems that Nob would like to be a part of the family so that he could be real. I tried to tell him he was real as far as I was concerned but I finally told him I would let you handle it."

[_Handle what?_]

"What do you want me to do?"

"You don't have to do anything. If Nob asks just tell him that it's too much paperwork. He'll understand."

"Could you tell me what he'll understand? Because I don't."

Hal struck a thoughtful pose. "It's important, Malcolm. It's about being a family. I have no problem with it, but your mother is different. She always tells me I tricked her into this. Not that that's true. Nob is a wonderful part of the family. He's the best chance I have for the perfect son, and I'm not saying this to put you down. You were right up there until this brain thing came along and then you had this magic stuff. By the time I could cope with that it was to late. I want you to know that I don't blame you even though it was your fault."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Your welcome, Malcolm. But as I was saying, Reese was totally hopeless from day one, and Francis always had an attitude. I blame your mother for that. And Dewey, well, I think your mom stood too close to the microwave when she was pregnant. That's why it's so important for us to stay together. Can I count on you?"

[_I got the part about family. I have no idea what the rest of it means. I'm taking the easy way out._]

"Sure, Dad. I'll take care of it."

"Is that a promise? I mean, I'm counting on you to do this. You have to mean that. It has to be a big promise, because I don't want to lose Nob. Well, none of us do, except Dewey but I think he's just imitating you and Reese. How about one of those wizard promises I keep hearing about."

"You want me to take a wizards oath to keep Nob in the family?

"Just to make sure he stays. I don't want your mom to worry."

[_That does it. I have no idea what Dad is talking about._]

"Don't you have to raise your hand?" Hal asked.

Malcolm raised his hand. "What do you want me to swear to?"

"Just swear that you'll keep Nob happy in our family."

"Fine. I swear that I'll do whatever it takes for Nob to stay with us. Okay."

"Thank you, Malcolm. I knew I could count on you. Remember, don't mention adoption around your mother or Nob." Malcolm nodded. "Have a good time at school." Hal waved to the boy standing in the now open doorway. "Have fun at school, Dewey. I have to get back to you and your Mom and . . . heck, you were there. You know that."

"Bye, Dad," Dewey said, then turned to Malcolm. "Now you know why I'm glad I'm going away to school."

"Whatever, Dewey."

"I know what you're going to do."

"How?"

Dewey smirked. "Because you did it? Now I get to find out how."

"I'll tell you as soon as I figure it out."

"You made a wizard oath to get Nob adopted."

"That wasn't a wizard oath, Dewey."

"Then why are you thinking about it?"

"I'm not thinking about it," Malcolm yelled. "How did you know I was thinking about it."

"You told me."

"No, I didn't."

"You will."

"It wasn't a real wizard oath, Dewey."

"Does it matter?"

*

Malcolm sat at a table at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor as Dewey cheerfully ate his Sundae. The green color was gradually leaving Malcolm's face.

"Malcolm, when we're done with our ice cream, can we get more money out of the bank?"

Dewey smiled as the green color returned to his brother's face.

"Hurry up, Dewey. We still have to buy all of our supplies."

"You do. Mine are already bought. All I have to do is get a wand."

"Then why did you tell Mom that you needed that stuff?"

"Now I get to spend the night in a wizard hotel."

[_Let's see? Spend the night at the Weasley's empty house or spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron. Yeah, it's a no-brainer._]

Dewey looked up as he finished his ice cream. "Can I check out the Quidditch Shop while you get your robes?"

"You are going to stay there, aren't you? I don't want you running off again."

"I will. I promise."

"Fine."

Malcolm went to Madam Malkins and had himself fitted with new robes for the coming year. He left with a promise that they would be delivered to his room at the inn. He then walked past Flourish and Blotts to the Quidditch Shop. Dewey wasn't there.

[_Why am I not surprised?_]

"Malcolm," Dewey called. Malcolm looked around but couldn't see him.

"MALCOLM," Dewey called again. Malcolm looked around and a passing witch pointed upward.

"Dewey, what are you doing?"

"Taking my new broom for a test flight."

"First Years can't have brooms. Besides, you can't pay for it."

"I know. But they let me try it out before I make my choice."

"You told them you were buying it? Do you know what they can do to you when they find out you lied?"

Dewey landed. "I told them it was conditional, that you still had to say yes or no."

"And they still let you try it out?"

"I told them you were rich and I wasn't. Besides, it's the old model they had in the window." Dewey frowned as he landed. "It's the only way I'll ever fly a decent broom."

{_He is right about that._]

Malcolm gave Dewey a frown of his own. "My money is only for school. I'll take it back inside and tell them no. And you know Mom and Dad can't afford anything like this."

"I know." Dewey had heard that line too many time before.

Malcolm walked inside and found the salesman, who immediately gave him a broad smile.

"Will you be making the purchase, Sir? Your brother was very enthusiastic."

"My parents can't afford it. Sorry."

"But it is a Nimbus 2000. Being the older model, we're almost giving it away."

"Yeah, but it's also a display model. How many people have test flown it."

"Not as many as you might think. And I know what you are thinking." The salesman named a price.

[_That is a good price._]

"Sorry," Malcolm said and tried to hand the broom back. "My brother's a first year anyway."

"Perhaps you would be interested ," the salesman said as he took the broom. "What do you fly now?"

"I don't use a broom when I fly."

The salesman's eyes widened in recognition. "You're that boy Malcolm. You're the animagus." An avaricious glint came into his eyes. "How would you like to make a deal that would benefit both of us."

"I don't have enough money on me, even if you cut the price in half."

"If you have the money in Gringotts, we can make a bank draft. And cutting the price in half does seem fair, if you permit us to advertise that we sold YOU a broom."

Malcolm thought briefly as he glanced out the window to check on Dewey. His brother was there, looking in the window, not at him but at the brooms.

[_I know that look._]

The five year old boy looked wistfully at the brand new wagon.

"No, Malcolm," Lois said. "You know we can't afford it right now. Maybe for Christmas."

The seven year old boy looked wistfully at the brand new ten speed bike.

"Sorry, Malcolm," Hal said. "That's a little out of our price range right now. How about I fix up Francis's old bike. It only has one speed so you won't get confused by all those levers."

The nine year old boy looked wistfully at the brand new Harley.

"You look big enough to reach the handles," the salesman said. "Why don't you take the bike for a spin around the block. See if you like it. We'll make an easy payment plan for you. Say a dollar a week?"

[_Sorry, one of my old daydreams slipped into my flashbacks. But you get the picture. In our family we never get anything decent. This broom is the old model, but even at the price he's willing to sell it for, my parents would still say no._]

"It's a Deal."

*

"Remember, Dewey. If anybody asks, it is my . . . where are you?"

Malcolm looked up to find Dewey flying happily around the rooftops.

"His first broom?" someone asked as they noticed.

"Yeah. I just hope he comes down."

"I remember my first real broom. I didn't come down for six days."

As the wizard continued on, Malcolm signaled Dewey to follow him to the wand shop then waited for thirty minutes for him to land.

"Thank you, Malcolm. Thank you. Thank you."

"Just remember. If anybody at school asks, it's my broom."

Malcolm opened the door to the wand shop.

Dewey followed him in, setting the broom by the door. "This place is old. Does anybody work here? What are all these boxes for? What type of wand should I get?"

"The wand chooses the wizard, Master Dewey," Mr. Ollivander said as he stepped out of the shadows. "I see your brother is here as well. I have heard about your loss, Malcolm. You know your way around, I believe."

Ollivander gave Malcolm a sly smile which he eagerly returned.

Malcolm arbitrarily picked out a box, pulled out the wand and gave it a wave. "Accio Nimbus."

The broom immediately shot across the room and hit Malcolm squarely in the stomach.

"A wand has found you already," Ollivander commented as the young wizard bent over, gasping for air. "Dragon Heartstring. No surprise there. And Beech? That is a rare combination. You have a powerful wand, Malcolm, if you use it correctly."

"What is this tape doing?" Dewey asked as it measured the distance between his nostrils.

"It does get carried away sometimes," Ollivander said with a snap of his fingers. The tape retreated to a bare spot on the counter. "Would you like to try your brother's method or should I choose a wand for you to try?"

"Will I get hit in the stomach if I find one on my own?"

"Ugh, Ugh," Malcolm commented on hearing the snide remark.

Dewey smiled. "Can I have that one?" He pointed all the way to the back, to a dusty box near the top that was sticking out slightly more than the one beneath it."

"I should not have asked," Ollivander said as he moved the ladder and climbed all thirty steps, then reached out carefully to get that particular box. He climbed down, rested briefly, then brought the box to Dewey who was holding a wand in his hand.

"This was on the counter. Is it yours?" Dewey asked as he waved it and green sparks flew out of the tip."

Ollivander scowled. "It was left out from a previous customer who was rather difficult. It hadn't been put back yet."

"I like it," Dewey said. "I want this one."

"Very well," Ollivander said with a huff, and looked at the box in his hand. "Why don't you try this one, anyway. That way you understand the difference between a good wand and one that won't work for you."

"I like this one."

"Try it," Ollivander said. "After all the effort I made to get it, it is the least you could do."

"I like this one."

"Very well," Ollivander said, giving up, then added in a monotone, "you have a nice wand there, Maple, Dragon heartstring, Eleven and one quarter inches."

"Hey," Malcolm gasped, "That's almost like my old wand."

"I'll try the other wand," Dewey offered.

"You liked that one," Ollivander pointed out.

"It's just like Malcolm's old wand," Dewey complained. "If I get this one, it will be like getting another Hand-Me-Down. Do you have any brothers?"

"I'll concede the point," Ollivander said, and handed him the wand from the box.

Dewey sat the old wand back on the counter and took the new wand in his hand. "This feels different."

"That is Rowan wood, ten inches long, with an Hercina feather at it's core. An excellent wand for spelling."

"Do you have one that's good for arithmetic?"

"Why don't you give it a wave?"

Dewey did so, and was surprised when, instead of sparks, a stream of red and gold stars appeared. "That was great."

Ollivander shook his head in wry humor. "Shall I return it to it's box or will you be taking it with you." Dewey replied by putting the wand in the pocket of his robe. "I will notify St. Mungo's. Malcolm, if you are recovered, you owe me seven Galleons and sixteen Sickles. And would I be offensive if I asked about your largesse? It seems that Dewey was thanking YOU for buying him that broom. Please don't tell me that you made another 'arrangement' with Lucius Malfoy."

Malcolm grinned. "Uncle Lucius did it on his own. I never even talked to him about it."

The wand seller's eyes grew wide. "You are Malfoy's lowlife relative? I thought that was only a joke." He laughed. "I suppose it is a good one at that."

[_Lowlife?_]

"Malcolm, don't be offended. You are everything the Malfoys are against. When everyone finds out about you, they are sure to reverse the joke."

[_Yeah, I believe him._]

*

"Lucius?"

"Master, the small matter you asked me about has been taken care of."

"You told me that the boy had agreed?"

"I admit that it was to remain close to my son, Draco, but even now he is spending the money you set aside for him."

"But he did agree willingly?"

"Indeed. We shook hands as well. I did not even have to use my Ace card."

"And why did you not tell me earlier that your two families were related?"

Lucius Malfoy paused. "I was not sure until recently, Master. In a matter such as this, I had to be certain before I said anything."

"Good. Have we heard anything about the boy, Louis Renault?"

"Osgoode says that the boy appears to have vanished. He probably heard what had happened and is hiding somewhere."

"Tell Osgoode not to worry. Your nephew Malcolm has clearly seen which side he should be on. That is one small problem we have done away with. Well done, Lucius."

"Thank you, Master."

*

"Do you want to come in with me?" Malcolm asked Dewey.

"I want to keep flying the broom."

"Fine. Just don't hit any more people when you fly past them."

"It wasn't my fault," Dewey complained. "He shouldn't have stuck his head out the window."

Malcolm shook his head as he entered Flourish and Blotts.

"It's you again," a clerk muttered.

[_I remember him. But his hair wasn't gray_.]

"I didn't do anything. I just came in to buy my books."

"You don't need anything special, do you? Only the standard texts?"

"Yeah, I've got the list here."

"The clerk was relieved. "I'll be more than happy to take care of it for you."

"WATCH OUT," someone screamed from outside..

"What was that?"

The clerk pointed outside. "Some wizard bought his brat a new broom. The runt has been flying at people on and off for the past two hours. It wouldn't be a relative of yours?"

"Look, just get my books for me."

The clerk went off with a frown. As he came back with the books, the front door opened and someone screamed. Dewey came flying into the store. He landed next to Malcolm as the clerk fell to the floor and the customers scattered..

"Malcolm, this broom is great."

"Dewey, you were supposed to hold that broom, not fly it. Didn't you see that other kid out there who kept bothering people? Do you want people to think you're like that?"

[_That should keep everyone in the store from ganging up on me._]

"There's another kid out there?" Dewey asked in surprise. "I'm going to see if he wants to fly together."

As Dewey ran out, the clerk and every other employee stared at Malcolm. "My dad's supposed to be watching him. I don't know what happened."

[_It's not working. They don't believe me._]

"JUST SEND THE BOOKS TO MY ROOM." Malcolm threw several galleons on the counter and ran for it. He lost them just after he turned a dark corner.

"Are you lost, little boy?" The old hag peered at Malcolm closely.

"No, I'm not lost."

"You're not in trouble are you?" A suspicious looking man in worn robes was eyeing him carefully.

Malcolm quickly looked around the corner to see if the angry mob was still there.

"Not yet."

The hag put her hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "If you are in trouble, I know some people who can help."

"Lady, these are new robes. Don't touch me."

A couple of other ne'er-do-wells joined the scene. Malcolm was almost surrounded. He looked around and saw no escape. The hag reached out her hand again.

"DUCK," someone shouted, as Dewey came flying about four feet off the ground and everyone threw themselves onto the cobblestone street.

Malcolm started to get up but was dragged to his feet by strong hands.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have enough sense to know when someplace is not safe?" Severus Snape huffed. "It is obvious why you were never put into Slytherin. You have a brain. You simply refuse to use it."

Snape dragged Malcolm out of Knockturn Alley. "Malcolm, we are going back to the bookstore I saw you leave. I want to find out why you ran out so quickly. Then you are going to help me find that errant flyer and bring him back to earth." Severus stopped in his tracks. "Malcolm, why to I have the feeling that these two events are related?"

"It's Dewey, Sir."

"And how did he get his hands on a broom?"

"I bought it for him."

Snape glared at Malcolm. "I won't even bother to ask how. I want to know why. He's your brother. You should know better than anyone that he is a walking menace. The last thing he needs is increased mobility."

Malcolm stared at the Professor but said nothing.

"WHY?"

"I felt sorry for him."

[_I think I surprised him with that answer._]

"You felt sorry for him? You felt sorry for Dewey? I'm taking you to St. Mungo's immediately. There is obviously something wrong with you. I don't even feel sorry for that runt. I go to sleep dreading what will happen next September when he finally starts school."

"Uh."

"I'm not going to like this," Snape muttered. "What do you mean by uh?"

"Dewey won't be starting Hogwarts next year."

"Why not?

[_This is cool. His lip is quivering and I haven't even told him yet._]

"There's going to be some kind of accident . . ."

"Going to be?"

" . . . with time," Malcolm paused, then added in a rushed voice. "Dewey's now eleven and I got the money for the broom from Uncle Lucius."

[_I've never seen a face go that white before._]


	9. The Hogwarts Express

CHAPTER NINE: THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS

  


"Stay in your room," Severus Snape said.

"I want to make sure my broom is . . ."

"Your broom is fine, Dewey. Stay here."

"Professor?"

"No, Malcolm."

"But I didn't even . . ."

"I told you no. Both of you are going to stay in your room all night. Get used to it."

"Where are you going to sleep?"

"For the safety of everyone, I will remain awake and guard this door."

"Professer Snape," Hagrid said as he came up the stairs. "Dumbledore asked me to stop by and relieve ye fer a bit."

"Thank you, Professor Hagrid. I will be back after I manage to eat something."

As he passed by the giant, he whispered, "Tonks?"

"Yer welcome," the giant whispered in return.

"Um, Hagrid,"

"No, Malcolm."

"But I didn't even . . ."

"I told ye, no."

*

Severus Snape looked happily at the clock in King's Cross Station. All he needed to do was put Malcolm and Dewey on the train and his babysitting task was over. He turned around to see if anyone was watching and turned back to motion the two boys through the secret entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

"Where is Dewey?"

Malcolm pointed. "He's over there talking to Reese."

"What is Reese doing here?"

"I don't know. We could ask Mom."

Severus was completely confused.

"MOM," Malcolm called out. "This is Professor Snape. He's one of the teachers at school."

"You have my sympathies," Lois said as she shook Snape's hand. "These two can be a handful."

"I know. I was guarding their room last night."

"Did they get out?"

"Almost. A colleague was nearby to lend support."

"That's my fault," Lois admitted. "but I had Dewey at home as well, and with Reese and Nob . . ."

Severus gave her a look of complete understanding.

"Mom, why is Reese here?"

"It's a last minute thing. He's going to a boarding school. The Ministry was very helpful."

"When did this happen?"

"About a month ago. Your father and I didn't tell anyone. We wanted to surprise Reese so he couldn't make any objections."

"When did you tell him?"

"His train leaves in fifteen minutes. We'll tell him then."

Severus Snape smiled.

[_I know. It's scary when he does that._]

"Madam, you are a very wise woman."

"Hey, dummy," Reese said as he came over. "Did you get your luggage yet?"

"Yes." Malcolm whispered as his mother and his teacher talked to each other. "Reese, those are your suitcases."

"You're wrong," Reese said with authority. "I'm not going anywhere. You're going to your stupid school of magic."

"No, you idiot. You're going to the Glen Levitt Academy."

"You're lying. I never even heard of that place."

Malcolm rolled his eyes in disgust. "See that crest on the pocket of the blazer you're wearing? It says the name of the school right there."

"No it doesn't. Mom said it was the manufacturer's label."

"And why are you wearing the blazer anyway."

"So I would look good when I saw you off?"

Malcolm pulled the blazer open. "Reese, see inside there. The label that says made by? That's the manufacturers label. Mom tricked you into wearing that jacket. In about ten minutes, they're going to put you on that train at Platform Ten and ship you off to boarding school."

"You're lying."

"Think about it. We're talking about Mom and Dad."

Reese began to panic. "What do I do?"

"I have a plan, but you have to do exactly what I say."

*

Lois looked at her watch. "Sorry, Severus. It's time to spring the surprise." She looked around. "Malcolm? Where's Reese?"

"He's on the train already, Mom. I told him what you were doing and I even helped put his luggage on board."

"Bye, Mom," Reese called out happily. "I'm off to school. I'll write you everyday."

Lois smiled and waved. "What did you do?"

Malcolm smiled as he waved to Reese. "I told him to sneak off the train after you left."

"But I'm not leaving until the train is out of the station with him on it."

"I didn't tell him that."

Reese continued smiling and waving. "Goodbye. Goodbye. You can leave now. I'm fine. I'm going off to school." The train began to move and panic filled Reese's eyes. "No, no, I'm going off to school."

As the train pulled out of the station, a faint shout could be heard. "I'll get you. Malcolm!"

[_But not for three and a half months._]

"Such a loving family," Severus said snidely.

"Hey, whatever works," Lois said in as snide a tone. "Malcolm, will you be okay?"

"Yeah, Mom."

"Where's Dewey?"

"I think he's on the train with Reese."

Lois shook her head. "Well, we have a spare Dewey at home. I'm not going to worry."

"Hey," Dewey cried from behind her.

"Then don't hide," Lois yelled. "Now, the two of you. Where's your luggage?"

"I've had it placed on board already by one of my more reliable students," Severus offered.

Lois smiled her gratitude. "Malcolm, Dewey, off with you. You have your own train to catch."

The two boys said their goodbyes and walked through to the hidden Platform.

Severus smiled his goodbye but Lois wasn't paying attention to him. She was too busy wiping tears from her eyes. "I will take care of them, Madam. I promise you."

"It's hard," Lois admitted. "I try so hard to send them off, and now I want them back. I must seem like a fool."

"Or a loving mother," Severus said diplomatically. For some reason it made him feel better when this woman smiled again.

*

"This is better than I remember," Dewey said looking at the train.

"Hurry up, Dewey. We want to find a place to sit."

"There's Draco," Dewey shouted and began to wave.

Malcolm swallowed hard.

[_And he's with Crabbe and Goyle._]

"Hello, Malcolm." Crabbe was rubbing his fist against his palm. Goyle was doing the mirror image on the other side of Malcolm. "Draco told us you had a good reason for what you did, but we thought we'd discuss it with you while your brother distracts him. You have three seconds to convince us not to discuss this."

"I can't," Malcolm said. "It's a family matter."

Goyle paused in his windup. "A family matter? That's not much of a joke."

"I know, but I promised Uncle Lucius not to say anything. I'm sorry. You'll just have to go ahead and discuss things with me."

[_I'm getting a lot of mileage out of this Uncle Lucius thing. I wonder why nobody knows about it?_]

"You're the one? You're that lowlife that Draco is related to?"

[_Now I remember. Everybody does know about it._]

Crabbe hit Malcolm in the mouth.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I could," Crabbe said with a laugh.

"Malcolm," Draco called out. "Are you hurt?"

"Not really. Thanks to Reese, I've gotten used to it."

"Good. I have something to tell you that is going to annoy you. I need to talk to you in private."

"Could it wait until next year?"

Draco pulled Malcolm to one side. "I did something to help you. I was going to keep it a secret but I've had second thoughts."

"Why? Didn't it help you enough?"

"That was cruel, Malcolm. It was honest, I admit that, but it was still cruel."

"What did you do?"

"When I was pretending to be you, Father payed a visit and talked to me, that is you, that is to say he talked to me thinking it was you he was talking to. Do you follow what I'm saying."

"Yeah."

[_I hope there's a point to this. Draco never rambles._]

"I agreed to take the money that father offered, so that the two of us could remain friends."

"What money? That money? The money I've been spending? (Draco nodded after each question.) I thought that was part of the scholarship deal?"

"Malcolm." Draco gave his sincerest smile. "Look at it this way. If You-Know-Who wins, you're on the winning side. And if he fails, you can honestly tell everyone that you knew nothing about it."

"Will they believe me?"

Draco put his arm around Malcolm's shoulder. "They wouldn't believe you, even if you didn't take the money. This way, at least you can buy a fast broom." He paused and grinned. "That's right! You already did. Good thinking Malcolm, You're always two steps ahead."

Malcolm frowned. "And that's why you're always one step behind me."

"Believe it or not, around you is the safest place to be."

"Why?"

"First, you don't want to know. Second, I'm trying to find out and no one is saying anything to me, so I can't tell you anyway. And third, I wasn't thinking about this at the time but . . . while HE thinks you are on his side, he won't try to do anything to you, or your family, just because he has a chance."

"Am I that important."

Draco laughed. "I doubt it. But you are a nuisance, cousin, and I want you to be safe."

Malcolm frowned. "You're not a very safe friend to have, cousin."

Draco looked at Malcolm without any humor. "You watch out for me, and I watch out for you. The grown-ups are playing a very dangerous game right now and, personally, I want to live through it and come out in one piece, and you are my best hope. You may be my only hope."

*

The train had barely pulled out of the station when the first incident occurred.

"Look at this," said Bill, a boy about Reese's age and height, to his friends He then pushed the younger boy who was a foot and a half shorter..

"Ow. Stop it," the younger boy said. "I didn't do anything to you."

"And it's good that you didn't," Bill said as he pushed the younger boy again. "You wouldn't like me if I was mad."

Reese opened the door to the compartment he was tricked into, and looked in the corridor. "Hi, what's up?"

The boys paused to look at the newcomer. "You're a Yank," the older boy said with authority. His three friends snickered. "And a Wally, too, to look at you."

"The name's Reese. Get it right. You're doing everything else wrong."

"What are you talking about you bloody useless git."

Reese pointed to the younger boy. "You don't push kids that small. You smack them in the back of the head. Like this."

"OW."

"It gets his attention and makes a statement."

"Look, Wally. Get away from me. You're interfering with my fun."

"It's Reese, you idiot. I already told you that."

"Then tell my fist!"

"Bill?" one of the larger boy's friends asked after he hit the ground. The younger boy quietly hid in the compartment that Reese had left.

"Never give a warning," Reese said as Bill rolled over. "That's why I hit you first."

"Get him," Bill shouted as he climbed to his feet.

The four boys rushed at Reese as he backed into the compartment and shut the door. He ran to the other door, the one that led to the outside and began to open it.

"Don't do that?" the boy shouted as he tried to hold the door closed. "It's dangerous."

Reese nodded. "Get on the seat, then let go off the door," he told the boy who followed the instructions. "When they run in past us we'll run out."

"You're nutters," the boy said as Reese pulled the door open. The four boys rushed in. The forward boy, Bill, tripped on 'someone's' foot and hit the door on the other side. It flew open.

"Bill?" one of his friends said, as he looked out from the moving train. In the moment of surprise, Reese and the other boy ran out into the corridor of the train.

"You were great, kid," Reese said as the boy tried to run away from him.

As the train began to slow, the boy stopped and turned around. "Why did you do all that?. Are you mental?"

"I can't read minds. What are you talking about?"

The boy stared in amazement. "You didn't plan any of that?" He paused in thought. "They'll kill us before we even get to school."

Reese looked surprised. "Are you going to the same school?"

The boy looked up in scorn. "We are wearing the same blazers, and so were they. So is almost every boy and girl our age who is on this train. And now, thanks to you, the two of us are the walking dead."

"Okay, I get it." Reese made a mental connection, "that guy who fell off the train is why we're dead."

"Thanks to you," the boy repeated as the train stopped.

Reese thought with amazing efficiency. "About how far are we from the station?"

"Since we only left a few minutes ago, perhaps five miles at most. Why?

"And what time is it?"

The boy checked his watch. "10:25. WHY?"

"I can make it," Reese said and went to the exit door at the end of the car, jumping off the train before anyone could stop him. The boy looked around and saw Bill's three friends coming back into the corridor. He ran after Reese.

*

"Marge," the old man cried, "Come look at this. Some fool boy jumped off that train and right into your bloomers."

Marge walked to the back door and looked out at the laundry she had set to dry. "Children, these days," she sighed. "From the way he's yelling he's not hurt or anything. Cut him down for me when he quiets down a bit."

"That's right." the old man sneered. "Leave all the work to me. It's his own fault. He can get himself down for all I care."

*

Anthony always hated the fact that he was short. His parents kept insisting that he was a late bloomer, and he was getting later every month. He was already fourteen and was still the same height as the average eleven year old. It also made him a target for bullies such as Bill and his friends.

Now he was in trouble, and his panicking mind told him to follow the American idiot. He clearly had a plan and that was Anthony's only hope. Anthony followed as Reese ran to a service gate in the fence guarding the track and managed to throw it open. A minute later, Anthony caught up to him as he stopped on a street corner looking around.

"You've trapped me in this mess," Anthony said angrily. "What is your brilliant plan?"

"I need to get back to the train station and I don't have much time. Do you know how to get there?"

Anthony pointed to the bus stop and to the oncoming bus labeled for King's Cross Station. "If you have the fare, we can be there in ten minutes without having to run."

"Great, then we'll get Malcolm. He'll know how to handle this."

During the ride, Anthony began to calm down, and as he began to calm down he began to think. His first thought was that this was a stupid idea after all. His second thought was that Bill the Bully, who's screams were attracting everyone's attention, looked rather silly hanging upside down from a clothesline with half his body trapped in some fat lady's knickers. Knowing how Bill would probably react at their next meeting, Anthony's third thought was to see how Reese's plan played itself out."

*

"I did it," Reese gasped as he looked at the clock. "Fifteen minutes to spare."

"Fifteen minutes for what?" Anthony asked

Reese paused in surprise as a thought came to him. "Why did you follow me?"

"No choice," The boy said. "Bill's friends were looking for us."

Reese considered it and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, follow me." He grabbed Anthony and pushed him in front.

"Where are we going?"

"First, we're going to walk through this wall."

"We're Wha . . ." the boy yelled as he was pushed through the barrier and onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He stood there, staring at the Hogwarts Express in complete surprise.

"You coming?" Reese asked as he ran for the train.

The boy awoke from his daze. "Yes. Definitely."

*

"Dewey," Severus Snape said informatively. "You are to stay in this compartment with me."

"I didn't do anything."

"And you won't do anything until we reach the school," The Potions Teacher said. "Under the circumstances I was asked to keep an eye on you at all times. Malcolm, where are you going?"

"I was going to see how Draco was doing."

"Really? And you are not worried that Gregory Goyle will object?"

"We, uh, worked it out."

"That is nice to hear, Malcolm. Sit back down."

"But Draco is expecting me."

"Then he will look for you when you do not show up."

There was a knock, and the compartment door opened to reveal Draco Malfoy.

"You see," Malcolm said quickly, "Draco was looking for me."

"What?" Draco asked, then added, "Yes I was, and I thought I heard your voice, Professor."

"Would you care to join us, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I have a compartment with Vincent and Gregory, Sir. As I said, I heard your voice and thought I would say how happy I am that you will be teaching us again this year."

"Thank you, Draco," Snape said with a thin smile. "I even half believe you. Since you came for Malcolm, take him with you AND keep him with you."

"Yes Sir," Draco said, and Malcolm happily followed him out.

"Why am I looking for you?" Draco asked.

"To keep Snape from babysitting me. He's stuck watching Dewey and he wanted to make me suffer as well."

"Happy to help," Draco said with a smile. "And since I now have you in my care, would you like to join us for real? I'm trying to clear the air between all of us, and with Crabbe and Goyle that means a lot of thick air."

"Why bother?"

"I do everything with them. They're my friends as well. I don't want to choose sides if I don't have to. Will you join me?"

[_I've got to go somewhere._]

*

Anthony jumped onto the bright red train. For better or worse, he was taking this train someplace. He paused to look in a room where two girls his age were wrestling with a truck while a third girl, an Eurasian who was clearly older, tried to help. "Here, give us a hand, or move on," the third girl said.

Reese had already disappeared up the train, so he stopped to help.

"Thanks," One of the girls said. "Mum was right. I packed too much. But your help did the trick. You have Hufflepuff written all over you."

"Um, thanks," Anthony said and backed out of the compartment.

The third girl held out here hand. "I'm the one who should thank you. My name's Cho."

"I'm Anthony."

"It was nice meeting you, Anthony, and don't listen to Hannah. You want to be in Ravenclaw."

"That sounds nice," Anthony said as he walked away. He was a fairly smart boy and assumed those were names of houses at the school, although they were odd names."

His next encounter was with a young girl who stuck her head out of her compartment and looked in the other direction.

"I don't see anybody." She turned around and gave a small shriek of surprise. "I didn't see you. Sorry," she added in embarrassment. "Rose Zeller, I'm a first year, too."

"I'm Anthony, and I'm not . . ."

"Are you a second year?"

"No," Anthony said as he tried to think. "I've never been on this train before, and I'm a bit confused."

Rose smiled helpfully. "Did you forget where you stored your trunk?"

"I know where my trunk is. Not that I can get to it right now. You see . . ."

"I know what you mean. I have brothers, too. I saw yours, and I've heard about him as well. Is Reese really that . . ."

"Yes," Anthony agreed, happy to be able to answer a question.

"Rose," a voice called, "Who are you talking to?"

Rose smiled again at Anthony. "It's a long train ride. Would you like to join us?"

"For a while. I'm still trying to adjust to what has happened so far."

"Magic does take some getting used to if you're not used to it. I'm still trying to adjust as well. Let's do it together."

Anthony followed her into the compartment, pondering the word she had used. Magic.


	10. Malcolm and the Muggle

A/N I want to thank everyone who has been reading the story for putting up with my delay, but I would also like to respond to Mandraco's review of chapter 8. First of all, yes, I do get that a lot. It's my fault for being an Bob Newhart fan. You also wanted to know when the Harry and Malcolm bit comes into play. It doesn't, but they do have an adventure together somewhere around Chapter Nineteen.

  
  


CHAPTER TEN: MALCOLM AND THE MUGGLE

  


"Finally," Lois said, "We're alone in this house."

"For at least three hours," Hal said with a smile.

"That sounds good to me."

The phone rang.

Hal answered the phone to find himself talking to a detective from Scotland Yard.

"We're sorry to bother you, Sir, but there's been an incident. A young boy fell from the train your son was on, and when the train stopped, your son and another boy were seen getting off. They are both lost somewhere in the Greater London Area and. . ."

"I'm sorry, you have the wrong number," Hal said and hung up the phone. He then took the phone of the hook and laid it down. "I'm sorry, Dear. Where were we?"

*

"Malcolm, trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"No you don't, Draco. I'm sorry but I'm not in the mood for this. I need some time to think."

"You mean, time from me. Remember, Malcolm. I am family. You should think of me as such."

"I do, Draco. I think of you as though you were one of my brothers. AND IT ISN'T FRANCIS."

Malcolm walked out of the compartment in anger.

"That went well," Draco said.

"Why him," Goyle asked. "Why do you keep being nice to him?"

"It should be obvious," Draco said. "I spend weeks trying to understand something, and he looks at it and one minute later is telling me things that I missed. I am ambitious, if you hadn't noticed. If I can convince him that my side is right, then he will be a great help to me, to all of us. And I happen to like him."

Goyle and Crabbe smiled at the thought of Malcolm helping them. Neither of them noticed the thoughtful look in Draco's eyes, nor did they know that his plans were not his father's plans.

*

"Hi, Colin," Malcolm said tonelessly as the older boy approached him.

"Where is he? Where's my brother?"

"I haven't seen him. Maybe he ran away to a muggle school because he got tired of you."

Colin stepped back in surprise. He let down his guard to ask what had happened.

"What do you care? You don't like the fact that I'm friends with your brother, anyway. Why don't you stuff a sock in it?"

Colin ignored the insult. "It's Malfoy. Isn't it?"

"You've heard."

"Everyone has." Colin found himself in a strange position. He hated Malcolm but now he was trying to calm him down. "Besides, I'm supposed to insult you for no reason. It's not worth it if you insult me in return."

"Colin, stop trying to cheer me up. I doing just fine being miserable."

"Then I'll let you talk to your brother," Colin said, and pointed behind Malcolm.

Malcolm turned around. "What is it, Dewey?" He paused as he was forced to look up instead of down. "Reese? What are you doing here? Don't tell me you jumped off a moving train?"

"I'm not that stupid. I waited for it to stop first. Then I came back on the bus."

"How far away is the next station?"

[_There's no way he could have made it back that fast._]

Reese told him the story and then politely, for Reese, asked what he should do.

Malcolm stared, then turned around and looked at Colin. "You wanted to help?"

Colin stared at Malcolm then looked at Reese, "Why don't you wile away the time with your cousin until we get to the school? Dumbledore will sort it out." He pointed to the compartment he had seen Malcolm come out of.

"Great idea," Reese said, then turned to Malcolm. "You should think of things like that." He started to turn around. "Oh, if you see a kid this high with a jacket like mine, tell him where I am."

"What's his name?"

"I don't know," Reese said and walked into the compartment without knocking.

Malcolm and Colin quickly walked the other way.

"Malcolm. I apologize for every rude remark I ever made. I now understand the horror that you live with everyday."

"Reese isn't that bad, Colin. Okay, he is that bad but you get used to it. And by the way, that was a cool idea you came up with. Now I feel better about both Reese and Draco."

*

Anthony understood his situation immediately. He was sitting with four eleven year olds on their way to this school for the first time. Also, they assumed that he was a first year as well. He didn't want to lie to them but he was curious about the reference to magic. It reminded him that he had reached this train by walking through a wall. He had walked through walls thousands of times before, but he usually used a door.

"Do you know which house you want to get into?" Euan asked, his large ears twitching.

Anthony played a hunch. "I was told I have Hufflepuff written all over me, but someone else told me to try for Ravenclaw."

Rose nodded at what Anthony said, but the other girl, Jenny, moaned. "I feel so stupid. I don't know anything about this school."

Anthony smiled. "Well, now you know as much as I do. I wasn't even sure if those were houses or if I was being teased."

They both laughed.

"Don't be embarrassed. Most muggle-borns know nothing about magic until they get their letters." The other boy, Mitchell, was trying not to look smug. "Me Dad's one and so are both of Mam's folks."

"I can't wait to start learning spells," Jenny said.

"You must feel the same," Rose said to Anthony.

"Not really," Anthony admitted.

"That's because you're Malcolm's brother."

"You know Malcolm?"

The others laughed. Rose explained. "When someone finds out we're going to Hogwarts the first thing they do is tell you who's who. There's Harry Potter. Everyone has heard of him, because of how he defeated You-Know-Who."

"I've never heard of him," Anthony admitted.

"I've heard him mentioned," Jenny acknowledged, "but that's all I know."

"First explain Malcolm," Mitchell said. Then we'll tell them about Harry. That will take longer."

Rose nodded. "Anthony knows this, of course, about Malcolm being an animagus."

"A what," Jenny and Anthony asked at the same time.

Everyone paused to look at Anthony. Euan spoke first.

"Isn't Malcolm your brother?"

"No, I never met him. Reese said he had a brother named Malcolm, and I was following him. But I lost him when I helped those girls in the other compartment."

"You're not going to Hogwarts, are you?"

"Not intentionally. That is what I was trying to tell you."

"You're a muggle" Mitchell said.

"What's a muggle."

"Someone who can't do magic."

"Do you mean card tricks? Or do you mean walking through solid walls?"

"I'll choose number two," Euan said with a grin.

"I suppose I am a muggle. Now, may I ask a question before we continue. Malcolm is supposed to be able to figure out a solution to my problem, but you said he was an ani . . ."

"Animagus. He is a wizard who is able to assume the form of an animal."

Rose smiled, "Now I want to ask a question. What is this problem you have?

The five trade questions back and forth until the food trolley came by. Mitchell insisted on treating Anthony to his first box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans.

*

"Sonombulus," Draco said quickly, and Reese slumped back into his seat.

"That's another reason not to like Malcolm," Goyle pointed out.

"Reese did help us out with the Durmstrang students last year," Crabbe admitted.

"And he will be no trouble to us now," Draco concluded.

*

" . . . and then I dropped the balloon," Malcolm said. "I never even thought about anyone passing by, much less Mrs. Norris."

Colin laughed as Malcolm related the true events. "No wonder everyone thought I did it. I don't blame Dumbledore for telling you to shut your mouth about it. But tell me the truth about this. Are you really trying to teach my brother to be an animagus."

Malcolm smiled. "Yes and No. I don't know how to teach someone to do that. But I am teaching him the things that helped me to understand how to do it. I think that is all it takes. If he can understand what it takes to change his form, he should be able to do it."

"How is he doing?"

"McGonagall suggested I tutor some of the other students as well."

[_This is weird. I think we just became friends._]

*

" . . . and then I told him that I didn't want one," Dewey droned. "He told me I could have two and I told him I didn't want one, why would I want two and then he said I could have as many as I wanted and told him I didn't want any and he said okay."

Dewey looked up and noticed that his keeper, Severus Snape, had fallen asleep from the incessant monologue.

"It's about time," Dewey said. He got up and left the compartment.

*

"We should find him soon," Mitchell said. "I've heard that Reese can be very abrasive."

"He was unpredictable," Anthony admitted, "and I'd only known him for a half hour. He might be keeping quiet for some reason. I think we should concentrate on finding Malcolm, if he is as popular as you say he is."

"I said he was well known, not popular. There is a difference."

Anthony thought about Reese. "Point taken. Excuse me," he asked a passing student, "I'm looking for Malcolm."

Fred looked down at Anthony and the first years. "I can help you with that. "OY, MALCOLM."

"WHAT"S UP," George shouted from the next car.

"LOOKING FOR MALCOLM,"

"OY, MALCOLM," George could be heard calling out.

"BLIMEY, HE"S RIGHT NEXT TO US," George called back.

"He's in the next car," Fred told them. "Just look for me, and I'll show you where." He opened a door marked 'boys' and said, "good, it's empty," then went in.

The group strolled into the next car and saw George pointing at the opened door and the brown haired boy standing there. The boy, Malcolm, was staring at the patch on Anthony's blazer.

*

"Is that George?" Colin asked.

"You can tell them apart by their voices?"

Colin nodded.

Malcolm opened the door and stepped out to see who was calling him.

"Yeah, George?"

"BLIMEY, HE'S RIGHT NEXT TO US," George called out, then turned to Malcolm. "You can tell us apart by the sound of our voices?"

Malcolm nodded.

[_What the heck._]

"You have company," George said and pointed the small crowd to the open compartment.

Malcolm could only stare. The lead boy was wearing a Glen Levitt blazer. The other four were looking at him like he was something special.

"You were on the train with Reese?"

"Then you are his brother?"

"Yeah."

"Reese said you would have a plan. What is it?"

"What are you plotting now," George asked.

"Is there another plot?" Colin asked as he poked his head out.

"Colin? I thought you couldn't stand Malcolm?"

"I can't, George, but I found it safer to be on his side."

"That's one question cleared up," George said, "Malcolm, why did he come on the train with Reese, and why is Reese on the train?"

"Let me help," Anthony offered. "I am a fourteen year old muggle. Reese and I ran from the train we were on because he accidentally knocked another boy off of it, and HIS three friends did not appreciate the fact. Having no where else to go except to the authorities, we came here."

The famous Weasley smile filled George's face. "Did you catch all of that, Fred."

"I did," Fred replied from where he was standing behind the group, "but we have a bit over five minutes before we all have to act innocent. Malcolm, what's the plan?"

[_How about we find Reese and throw him off this train._]

"What am I supposed to be planning?"

[_Great. Nobody knows what the plan is supposed to be about._]

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "Just hang out until we get to Hogwarts. We'll ask Dumbledore. He's the Headmaster."

"Oooh, Marvelous plan," Anthony said sarcastically.

"A better plan would have been to stay on your own train. Did you ever think of that?"

"I am one, I repeat, one short person. They were three, I repeat, three big persons. And your brother Reese said that he had a plan which would fix everything. It was only until I was committed, that he revealed that his plan was to ask you. And now, you tell me that your plan is to ask someone else."

Malcolm leaned into the smaller boy. "Listen, you are on a train that will not stop for another four hours. There is nothing you or anyone else can do until then. Once we arrive at the school we have three problems. First, wizardry is supposed to be kept secret from muggles. Second, you are a muggle. And finally, Reese is an idiot. The smartest thing I can do is to hand this problem over to someone else and let them deal with it."

"Oy, goodbye, Malcolm," George said as he and Fred ducked into their compartment.

"Quick, everyone in," Malcolm shouted urgently. Malcolm had barely closed the door to the compartment when the yelling started.

Malcolm waited a respectful amount of time before he opened the compartment door to look out. A number of students were coming from the other car. Some were laughing while others were cursing, but all of them smelled awful.

"Close the door, Malcolm." Colin and the first years were already holding their noses.

Malcolm politely closed the door behind him, but Anthony came out as well. The odor might be strong but he was curious about what had happened. As their door closed, the compartment door next to them opened up, and Fred and George came out, each with a with large clothespin on his nose.

"Complements of Weasley Enterprises," Fred told the crowd. "Each of you please note that you cannot smell yourself, only others that have been affected. We will let all interested parties know when the Weasley Stinkers become available."

"How do we get rid of the smell?" one irate first year asked.

"Hold your nose and say, 'I do not smell a thing," George explained.

"You're joking," the boy said.

"Probably," Fred answered, "but you'll never know until you find out."

The handful of students all held their noses and said they didn't smell. When the odor cleared away instantly, almost everyone laughed. The one exception was the boy with auburn hair who started complaining immediately.

"That wasn't funny. What if we didn't run into you. We would have been trapped with that smell."

"That reminds me," a fourth year girl said. "My friends went the other way." She took off and several of the other students followed.

Anthony gave Malcolm a curious look.

"Fred and George are planning on opening a joke shop when they graduate."

"Using Magic?"

"Of course."

The boy looked at Anthony and sneered. "I was warned about the Weasleys and I was warned about you. Worthless mudbloods wandering around like they're the equals of decent wizards."

"Pleased to meet you. My name's Anthony. And you are?" 

The boy's eyes shined malevolently. "Mathew Zeller. Remember that you dirty blooded miscreant or I'll make you regret it."

Anthony smiled as though he was being invited to tea "Are you related to Rose Zeller. She's also a first year, but I don't think she knows about purebloods."

"YOU STINKING LIAR."

"Did I hear my name," Rose asked as she opened the compartment door.

Two things happened in quick succession. Mathew Zeller snapped and swung his hand to slap Rose in the face. Then Anthony, the victim of too many bullies, snapped as well. He grabbed Mathew's arm and spun him so they were facing each other. Then a third thing happened. Matthew Zeller fell to the floor as his left eye began to swell.

[_Yeah, he's been hanging around with Reese._]

"He's out cold," Fred said as he checked the boy.

"Are you sure you can't do magic?" George asked. "We could use someone like you. 

"I . . . I never hit anyone before." Anthony looked at Rose who smiled.

"I can't complain," Rose said. "I'm not used to being hit for walking through a door."

"He's one of those pureblood Mitchell told us about," Anthony explained. "It seems that the two of you have the same last name."

"Oh, Wonderful." Rose's face told everyone she did not mean it.

By now everyone was out of both compartments, and doors from the other compartments were beginning to open.

"Look at that," Malcolm said suddenly as all the curious eyes began looking at him. "This poor kid takes a bad fall and no one bothers to help."

Malcolm went to grab the boy and found Colin helping him. At Colin's insistence they walked to the next car opposite the way the boy had come.

"Why this way?"

"There's a boy's facility that we can't use because the door stick. I think I can get it open."

Malcolm smiled at Colin's resourcefulness. "I know I can get it closed again. Let's hurry up. He's coming around."

*

Albus Dumbledore apparated to the outskirts of the nearby muggle school. Students were already arriving for the new school year. Dressed much as he had been during his summer interlude to the States, he drew few looks of curiosity, and most of the curious were wondering if he might be a new teacher. He had that look about him. One of the younger students even dared to ask.

"I am not, young lady. I have not taught a class for many years now. I am only here to visit a former student of mine, and I assure you that I do remember where the Headmaster's office is."

The girl was polite, and obviously pleased at the image of dour old Hector Filch as a young student like her.

Albus walked through the halls of Glen Levitt Academy and entered Filch's office. "I am Albus Dumbledore," he told the secretary.

"Go right in, Sir. Mr. Filch is expecting you."

If one did not know better, that person would have been surprised to see Argus Filch, impeccably groomed and smartly dressed. "Albus, it is so good to see you again. I received your owl and I've already phoned the families, although I had difficulty in reaching the home of the boy, Reese."

Albus chuckled. "His parents are a loving couple who cherish their private moments. I assume you reached them after the school hours had ended."

Hector, Argus' twin brother, looked up in surprise as he understood, then he chuckled as well. "Both boys are in good shape?"

"As far as I know. Both boys are on the Hogwarts Express."

Hector looked puzzled. "That shouldn't be possible. It requires magic to walk through the barrier. I know I can because I am a squib, and from what you have told me, the boy Reese fits into that category as well. But Anthony is a muggle. The barrier should have refused him."

"Hector, I will tell you something in the strictest confidence, because you are the headmaster here and you need to know. I did some research when I discovered what had happened, and it seems that young Anthony has significant magical ability."

Hector's puzzled look did not fade. "But why wasn't he invited to Hogwarts, or to another school?"

Albus gave a thin smile. "He is on our list. He is scheduled to receive an invitation on the midsummer's day after his eleventh birthday."

"But . . . He's already fourteen?"

"And that is why I am telling you. His name has not come up yet. Somehow, in the course of the next two years, he will celebrate his eleventh birthday and receive his letter."

"Somehow?" Hector Filch said as the reality set in. "I will watch him carefully, Albus. I promise you. And I will let you know at once if anything unusual happens to him."

"That is all I ask, Hector. And I thank you for your time."

"Albus, may I ask you one more thing. I've been hearing stories and rumors."

"All true, I'm afraid. Voldemort has returned. It is now only a matter of time."

"If I can do anything," Hector said firmly. "I may be what I am but I can still do things. No squib has ever had a truer friend than you."

"I assure you, Hector, that if I need your help I will never hesitate to ask, and I will never ask for more than you can do."

Albus looked at the headmaster who beamed at those words, and smiled in return. "A thought comes to mind. The boy, Reese, is a keen Quidditch fan. Perhaps you could escort him to a game one weekend. You might even consider bringing Anthony along. As he is a potential student, he might be curious to know more about the world of magic."

*

"Why do you keep yelling like that?" Dewey asked.

"Because I'm trapped in here," Matthew Zeller yelled from behind the door. "Some stupid muggle-born knocked me out and dumped me in here."

"Why don't you use your wand to get out?"

"The stinking mudblood stole it from me. Look, can you help me get out of here?"

"Yeah, that would be no problem," Dewey answered and kept walking.


	11. Arrival

CHAPTER ELEVEN: ARRIVAL

  


"Mom?" Nob asked carefully.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Then what do you want?"

"I have homework."

"On your first day? What do you have to do?"

"The teacher wants me to think about what I want out of school."

"That's easy. You want to learn as much as you can so that when you grow up you will be able to help make the world a better place."

"WOW, if I thought to say that, I wouldn't have any homework at all."

As the boy ran off to play, Lois paused in thought.

"Nob, get back here. What DID you tell the teacher?"

*

"Francis, What are you thinking about?"

He looked up at his wife of barely a month. "I was thinking about my brothers, Piama. Malcolm will be starting school today."

"He's the smart one? What's his school like? Are they all as smart as him."

"No, but they are all wizards like him."

"Wizards? As in magic? Like Uncle Renakka?"

"Yeah. That's why your uncle hired me in the first place. He said he smelled magic on me."

Piama was shocked. "First of all, he's not my uncle. Everybody calls him that because he's so old. As far as smelling magic he uses that on every gullible kid who comes along. You never told me you were one of those nut cases."

"Nut cases?" Francis was surprised. "Magic is real. That's why I fell for Uncle Renakka's story. And he's weird enough that he might be telling the truth."

"Then prove it. Do some magic." Piama yelled.

"I can't do any magic," Francis yelled back. "My brother can. That's why I know it's real. I've seen him do it."

Piama stepped back. "It's not you, but it is your brother?"

"Yeah, and maybe Dewey, but it's hard to tell with him. He's already weird. Look, I'm sorry. I've been living with this for two years. I never thought, well . . ."

Piama smiled wryly. "I know. We all talk about Uncle Renakka. Naturally you thought we believed him."

"How can I make it up to you?"

"Have your brother show me magic when you get the chance." This time Piama grinned. "Until then . . ."

"I can do that.

*

Malcolm walked back to the compartment to find the first years waiting for him.

Anthony looked nervous. "How is he?" he asked.

"Awake and angry. We barely closed the door on him in time. Do you want a wand?"

Mitchell looked surprised. "You took his wand?"

"Either that or let him get out of there in a few seconds."

[_I have a wonderful idea._]

"Anthony, would you like to go to Hogwarts? We have an opening."

"I was told about the Sorting Hat. I don't think I would make it."

"I know, but you've made it this far. You should get a proper look at the school."

"It would be fun," Jenny offered, "to start off my career at Hogwarts doing something like this."

"I'll be waiting at the school when you get there," Malcolm said. "I'll make sure there are no problems at the other end."

"It should be fun," Rose admitted. "Please, give it a try."

"You have my vote," Euan added.

"But I'm going to the school anyway," Anthony protested.

"But not as a first year," Malcolm said. "The rest of us just ride up the hill in carriages."

All five looked at Malcolm, then at each other, finally at Anthony.

"What do I have to do?"

"Leave it to me," Malcolm assured him. "I'll get Fred and George. They have experience at this."

"Has this happened before?" Rose asked.

"No, not exactly."

The five began to laugh as Malcolm left the compartment.

"Malcolm," Dewey called out. "Can you help me?"

"What do you need?"

"I need someone to cast a spell for me. It's a simple one."

"Wait a minute. I need to talk to Fred and George."

He opened the door. "Hi guys, I've got a question. How hard would it be to sneak Anthony in with the first years."

"Who's Anthony," Dewey asked.

"He came with Reese," Malcolm answered.

"Reese is here?"

"Yeah. So, guys, would it be a problem? I've got a wand for him already."

"What about my spell?" Dewey asked. "It's important."

"I'll take care of this," Lee said as he got up and walked out with the young boy. "What kind of spell do you need?"

"There's this boy trapped in the bathroom and he keeps screaming. Can you put a silence spell on him?"

Fred and George grinned at Malcolm. "Haven't we done this before?"

"Yeah, but it turns out that they knew I was coming."

"Since we know what to do, consider it done. Send the mark over."

"He means Anthony, Malcolm."

[_Like I don't know what a mark is. I've been one plenty of times._]

*

"That's curious," Draco said.

"What?" Crabbe asked.

"I think we walked past a silencing spell. Did you notice how the sound of the train faded out on one side?"

"No."

"I'm not surprised." He looked down the corridor. "Dewey? Did Snape let you out?"

"He fell asleep. I was looking out for Reese."

Draco patted the wand in his robe. "It is a curious coincidence. Reese fell asleep as well."

Dewey sighed with relief. "After Malcolm, the last thing I wanted was to find Reese."

Draco smirked. "Then why did you want to know where he was?"

Dewey looked up at Draco as though he was talking down to him. "So I know where not to be."

"That makes sense," Goyle admitted.

"You're right," Draco agreed. "I'm surprised. Dewey, would you care to join us. I'm making the usual rounds to remind people that I am still here. It's very annoying yet fun at the same time."

Dewey scowled. "I guess it depends on which side you're on."

"Exactly." Draco smiled.

"OK."

"Excellent, I think I remember some fourth year Hufflepuffs in this compartment."

*

Severus Snape awoke in the empty compartment and began cursing immediately. He left the compartment and began walking down the corridor. He paused at one point when he noticed the silencing spell.

"Finite Incantatum," he said in irritation.

". . . inking mudbloods. I'll get you if I ever get out of here."

"Really? And what will you do if I don't let you out?"

Silence.

"Much better," Snape said and pointed his wand at the door. "Alohamora."

Matthew Zeller, redfaced, blackeyed and disheveled, stepped out.

"There is no need to ask what happened or why. It is obvious from your attitude and appearance. Where is your compartment?"

"It's in the fourth car."

"This is the fourth car."

"That one there. Sir, they stole my wand. They were Weasleys, Sir."

"I am surprised to hear that," Severus sneered. "We're almost to the station. Get ready and then we'll find your wand."

"Yes, Sir." Matthew Zeller was cowed by the Professor's demeanor and expected little help.

*

"You look like a promising wizard," Fred told Anthony.

"One more thing," Malcolm said and pulled the stolen wand from his robes and placed in the pocket of Anthony's robes. "Don't try to use it."

"I won't," Anthony said. "It may be magic to you but to me it's only a stick."

Malcolm looked at Dewey. "And don't forget your promise."

I won't," Dewey said pointedly.

"Is everyone ready?" George said, as the train stopped. He opened the door, and Severus Snape walked in with the Zeller boy.

"Everyone will sit down, NOW."

"He's the one who hit me," Matthew said, pointing at Anthony.

"Sit down." Mathew Zeller sat. "Stand up." Anthony stood up. Severus reached into the boy's robes and pulled out the stolen wand. Without ceremony he handed it back to its rightful owner. "Sit." Anthony sat.

"I can explain, Professor Snape," Malcolm said.

Matthew Zeller smiled as he heard the name of his escort. His hopes for revenge began to rise. They began to fall just as quickly when Snape glared at him.

"This should be interesting." Snape was not smiling.

"Reese came on board with Anthony after throwing another boy off of his own train. Draco hit him with a sleep spell and we were going to send Anthony to the school with the first years since he has to go there anyway."

[_Telling him about Reese should keep him from asking the wrong questions._]

"And why did he hit this boy,"

"Because Zeller is a jerk."

"And why did he steal his wand."

"I did that. He was a danger with it."

"And the silencing spell?"

Lee Jordan raised his hand. "I did that because all of his screaming about . . . Well, all his screaming was bothering the other students."

"And you are a muggle?"

Anthony nodded.

"He's a what?" Matthew Zeller asked in surprise.

"A muggle, Master Zeller," Severus Snape said evenly. "You were bested by one of those incompetent excuses for a human being that you were telling me about. Now, Shut Up."

[_This is why I like Professor Snape. He hates everybody equally. Except for Draco, but there's no accounting for taste._]

Severus began issuing orders. "Malcolm, you will fly to the school and tell Professor Dumbledore what the situation is."

"Yes, Sir," Malcolm said. He opened the window and jumped out, changing into an owl.

"COR," two voices shouted, and Anthony and Matthew looked at each other, and grinned in spite of themselves.

"Dewey, you will escort these two boys to the boats. Hopefully, they will use this time to come to some sort of understanding. If not, you have my permission to kick both of them out, and let the giant squid take care of them."

"Cool," Dewey said as Anthony and Matthew swallowed hard. "Follow me. NOW."

Snape looked at the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. "The only reason this ends here is because Matthew is even more obnoxious than Dewey. Leave now before I decide we should meet in my office for a few nights."

Severus Snape smiled as he found himself alone in the compartment. He stepped off the train and found Argus Filch and informed him of the sleeping boy on the train. Argus nodded and assured the Potions Professor that he would take care of Reese. Then Severus stopped in his tracks.

"Albus will kill me. I've sent a muggle up to the school." He stormed off with the intention of killing Malcolm first.

*

"Where's Hagrid?" Dewey asked.

"He's late returning to the school," the lady told him. "I'll be teaching his class until he returns. Are you a friend of his?"

"Yes, I am. He hates my brother."

"That's, uh, nice dear. You and your friends run along now."

"You've been here before?" Anthony asked.

"Lots of times, but I've never sailed across the lake."

Dewey climbed in a boat, and motioned the other two to follow him.

"You first," Matthew said, failing to hold back a sneer."

"Listen, you eleven year old snot," Anthony said in response. "For fourteen years, I was always told that magic wasn't real, and today I found out that was wrong. Why don't you think carefully about what your parents told you. They might be wrong about something."

"And you would know," Matthew retorted.

"I've three years on you. I think I know a little more than you do." He pointed at the younger boy's black eye. "Get in, and be civil. I want to enjoy this trip."

Matthew gave him a scornful look but got into the boat. He also kept his mouth shut for most of the trip, opening it only when he saw Hogwarts for the first time."

"This is GREAT," Dewey said for all of them.

*

Professor Grubbly-Plank knocked three times on the great oaken door that was the entrance to Hogwarts. Anthony was with Rose and the others, while Matthew stood near them, but far enough away to show that he wasn't with them. As the doors opened, Matthew noticed Dewey, and noticed that he was looking up. He followed his gaze and spotted the boy, Malcolm, sitting on a gargoyle near the top of the building.

"Professor McGonagall, these are the first years."

"Professor Mcgo . . ." a girl called out.

"It's McGonagall, dear. What did you want?"

The girl pointed up. "There's a boy sitting on the ledge up there."

McGonagall frowned. "Malcolm, come down here this instant," she shouted.

Matthew glanced quickly to where Anthony was, and their eyes met. Despite their differences, they shared another smile, this one in anticipation.

"I'll be right down," Malcolm called out, and jumped off the side of the building.

The first years screamed as they saw the boy fall and several of them covered their eyes in fear, thus missing the transformation. Those who watched in morbid fascination saw Malcolm shrivel and spout feathers. They laughing in delight and awe as an owl landed on McGonagall's outstretched arm, giving her an affectionate nip on the ear.

Without mentioning what had happened, she ushered the first years in and to a side room off the Great Hall. "You will wait here until you are ready to be sorted into your houses. We have four of them. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Slytherin. When we are ready for you we will call you into the Hall. Also, there is a guest among you." At Malcolm's prompting she pointed to Anthony. "Malcolm will escort you to the Gryffindor table, young man."

Obediently, Malcolm flew over and hovered until Anthony held his hand out, then perched on his upper arm. Conscious that everyone was watching him, Anthony walked in the direction that McGonagall pointed. As he left the room, he heard McGonagall say, "If any of you end up in Gryffindor, you have fair warning of what you have to deal with."

*

The Potions Professor stopped Albus Dumbledore as he carried the Sorting Hat into the Great Hall from the room behind the teachers table."

"Albus, I am sorry for what happened with the boy."

"Do not worry, Severus. He and Reese were noticed boarding the train, but we did have other problems to deal with. I would have told you to do exactly what you have done, although I think it was a nice gesture on your part to send him with the first years."

Snape bit back a remark about making a gesture when he spotted the muggle boy walk in with a owl on his shoulder. "I am reminded that Malcolm's brother is among them."

"I heard that as well,"Professor Sprout said as she walked up to the pair. Looking directly at the hat, she added, "while he would be a welcome addition to my house, his attributes are clearly in other areas. While it will be a loss for Hufflepuff, we know it is best if he were placed in another house."

"I agree," Professor Flitwick said suddenly. "While he is not the brightest boy, which any reasonable, um, person can see, his courage, diligence and ambition makes him well suited for any house. Except mine, I regret to say."

Albus looked at Severus with a twinkle in his eye. "You were giving me your opinion?"

"I would be more straightforward than my fellow collegues. The boy does not belong in my house for any reason." He actually glared at the hat. "You do need a good cleaning. Perhaps I can find the appropriate potion. Something that isn't too . . . caustic."

"I will keep that in mind, Severus."

"I am curious, Headmaster. Did Professor McGonagall express her views on the subject."

Albus smiled. "She told me she was preparing for the worst. If you will excuse me, I need to place the Hat so that we may begin the sorting."

*

Anthony walked toward the Great Hall, delighted at the boy-who-was-an-owl sitting on his arm. As he approached the entrance a man holding a cat stepped out to look at him. Anthony stared at him in surprise.

"Headmaster? What are you doing here?" He paused. "What happened to you?"

The man stood there smiling. "You're the muggle we were warned about. Well, while you're here you are under my eye. And I'll warn you now. I'm not as friendly as my brother is."

Anthony tried to picture sour old Hector Filch as friendly, and failed, but his fear of his headmaster's twin brother fled when the cat began to purr loudly as it looked directly at the owl. Then the cat began to squirm in Filch's hand while the owl tried to change arms.

"No, Mrs, Norris. Not Malcolm. You have a job to do. Get out of here boy and take that ruddy owl with you."

With a grin he couldn't control, Anthony walked into the Great Hall and stopped. He was still staring when he realized that Malcolm was human again, and standing next to him.

"Let's get some seats. Dumbledore wants to talk to you after the feast, but we have to have the sorting first. You're going to be here for a while."

"As long as I can eat. I'm starving."

"Here," Malcolm said as they found two empty spots. "Anthony, this is EJ and Amber. They're in my year. You remember Colin, and that's his brother, Dennis. Guys, this is Anthony. He's taking Reese's place by popular demand."

"I'm only visiting," Anthony explained. "Malcolm is giving me the tour."

"Where do you go to school?" Amber asked, and they began a discussion interrupted by the first years walking in.

"Malcolm," EJ said. "That's Dewey."

"Yeah, he had an accident and now he's a year older."

[_I noticed something. Every time I explain about Dewey the conversation stops._]

"So, Amber. How was your summer?"

"Dewey is a year older?"

"Yeah."

[_See what I mean? Let me try with someone else._]

"Dennis. Where were you? Colin and I looked for you everywhere."

Dennis Creevey grinned widely. "Do you know how, when you go between cars, you go from one car directly into the next car?"

"I did notice," Anthony admitted.

"I tried to actually go between the cars, and it worked. This is the great part. I couldn't get back in the train. Every time I walked though a door, I ended up between the next two cars. I spent almost the entire trip on the back of the last car. The scenery was great."

The conversation ended as the Sorting Hat began to sing it's annual song, but this time it was a warning about trouble ahead and the need to stand together. Malcolm found himself scratching his chest where the scars used to cross.


	12. The Sorting

A/N I just wanted to give another thank you to everyone, especially the reviewers. The truth is that I feel obligated to make some kind of comment to let all of you know that I am paying attention to all of your reviews. I should also note that Harry Potter finally makes an appearance in this story. As another aside, Grizabella asked about accents. I talked to a friend who has a vague knowledge of the subject. (He has lived in the US for several years.) His experience with his family is that Malcolm's will always have an American accent, although it may soften. He would, however, quickly pick up on the local idioms, unlike Hal or Lois who are already set in their speech patterns. It also makes you wonder that I would continue to think about something like this.

  


CHAPTER TWELVE: THE SORTING

  


"Reese, wake up," a voice said. "You're at the school."

Reese woke up and found himself in the back of a car, looking out the open window at a vaguely familiar man.

"Where am I?"

"Glen Levitt Academy," Hector Filch said. "Your luggage has been stored for you and you are still in time to eat."

"Cool," Reese said, "This is just like magic. Do you have a Great Hall?"

Headmaster Filch gave him an amused looked. "We do. It is called the cafeteria. I admit it doesn't sound like magic, but it does the job."

Reese's fantasy dissolved as he realized that he was not only attending a regular school, he would also be staying there after classes left out. It was going to be like terminal detention.

  


*

Professor McGonagall called out the first name, Euan Abercrombie, and Anthony watched in amazed delight as the Hat shouted out "Gryffindor." Euan took his seat at the end of the table but made it a point to look for Anthony and wave.

"How does the Sorting Hat work?"

Amber answered. "It looks into your head , then decides which of the houses is best for you."

"Does one house ever get more students than another? All of your tables seem equally full."

"Every year there are forty new students, twenty boys and twenty girls. Five boys and five girls go to each house. It always seems to work out. I know that my first year we only had thirty nine students, but Malcolm showed up suddenly. I always wondered if he was expected."

[_She's right. I never noticed that._]

Anthony grinned at Malcolm. "And that is why Fred and George had practice doing something that never happened before."

"See that girl with the red hair?" Malcolm pointed. "She's their sister, Ginny. On the train she found out I could do magic, and they ended up making me stay."

They looked up as Mitchell's name was call. Anthony was upset that he went to Hufflepuff, but from the way they reacted at that table, it was obvious that he already had friends there. Jenny followed him onto the stool, but followed Euan to the Gryffindor table.

"There's Dewey," Dennis called out when Malcolm's brother walked up to the sorting hat. "We should hope for the best."

"It's no use," Malcolm said. "They already agreed to let him stay."

"We can still hope," Amber replied.

*

Dewey watched with trepidation as one by one the students in front of him were sorted. Finally his name was called and he walked forward quickly and sat down. The hat was placed over his head and he heard a soft voice speak.

"Yes. You're the one that they keep talking about."

"I know you can read my mind and all that but I wanted . . ."

"There's always the question of which house to put you in ."

" . . . to ask if you could put me in . . ."

"Or is it a question of how ratty a hat I am?"

"Excuse me?" Dewey asked.

"Maybe I do need a good cleaning but not by that arrogant human. Caustic, Indeed."

"Are you listening to me? I'm trying to ask you a question."

"I know what's best for him. A taste of his own medicine. That's what is needed."

"What are you talking about?"

"SLYTHERIN," the Sorting Hat called out.

"Are you crazy?" Dewey asked.

"You're an ambitious young boy. You'll do well. Move along now."

The hat came off of his head, and Dewey looked up in surprise.

"Go ahead," McGonagall encouraged, and Dewey stood up and walked over to the Slytherin table to scattered applause.

"Welcome to Slytherin," the head boy said, holding out his hand. "Draco told us you were his cousin, and it seems the rumors about you were true."

"What rumors."

The head boy looked surprised. "Surely, you knew. Draco tried to tell us two years ago that your family was pureblood but we thought he was joking. But the proof is that you are here.. Only purebloods are ever put in Slytherin."

"Oh," Dewey said, and sat down as though it was perfectly normal. "When do we eat?"

*

"I guess the rumors were true," Hermione said casually as Dewey walked to his house table."

"That he and Malcolm are purebloods," Harry asked with amusement. "What do you think, Ron."

"Dad was telling the truth," Ron said sadly as his young friend went to his enemies house.

"About what? " Harry and Hermione asked.

Ginny laughed. "My brother was hoping that Dewey would be put in Gryffindor, but it seems that blood is thicker than water."

Hermione understood. "Dewey is Malfoy's lowlife cousin?"

"NO," Ron said angrily, "Malcolm is."

"It's for the best, Ron." Harry consoled his friend. "And now we have a friend in Slytherin, to help the houses stick together."

"You're right, I suppose. I'm too hungry to argue about it anyway."

*

"Yes!" Malcolm shouted as he and EJ high-fived.

"They put him in the wrong house," Dennis said in surprise. "He was supposed to be put in Gryffindor."

"But he wasn't," EJ happily pointed out. "He's better off in Slytherin."

"But I liked him," Dennis complained.

"Don't worry," Malcolm assured him. "Dewey will be around more than you want."

Anthony smirked. "Listening to you talk makes me happy that I'm an only child."

"Go ahead," Malcolm laughed. "Make me jealous."

Anthony became serious. "That last boy also went to Slytherin," he commented as Matthew Zeller's name was called. "That would mean that Zeller . . ."

"Yeah, Fred told me. His family always goes to . . ."

[_That last boy made it five for Slytherin._]

" . . . how many boys have been put in Gryffindor?"

Everyone in the group watched intently as the Sorting Hat was placed on Matthew Zeller's head.

*

Mathew Zeller smirked at Rose Zeller as his name was called. "Now I'll be rid of you and your friends and be with my own kind."

"Good Luck," Rose said, knowing it annoyed him, but he refused to show any sign he heard.

Matthew sat on the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. A soft voice spoke inside his head.

"I can see it all. It's here in your head. And, uh, oh my, Slytherin would be, um, nice but . . . You're a brave boy. Off to Gryffindor with you."

"What? Are you crazy?"

"GRYFFINDOR," the Hat shouted.

The hat was lifted off his head, and Matthew looked up at McGonagall. "There's something wrong with that hat," he protested.

"Is that so?" McGonagall said. "Go over to the Gryffindor table for now. We'll deal with the problem later."

"But . . ."

"But we are all hungry. We'll eat first, then we will deal with any problems."

Matthew's stomach rumbled on cue and he readily agreed.

"Congratulations," Rose said as he walked by.

"Why, thank you, Rose. And Good Luck to you." Matthew smiled when Rose frowned at his words. At least he would be in a good mood when he sat down.

"Matt," Fred called as the boy went to sit down. "Sit with us. We need to talk to you about something."

"I plan on being in this house until the end of the meal," Matthew said angrily.

"That," George said emphatically, "is why we want to talk to you."

*

"Food," Malcolm said appreciatively, as did half the students in the hall.

Anthony gaped as the multitude of dishes appeared suddenly on the table, but moments late he was grabbing bits of this and that and filling his plate.

"Do you eat like this everyday?"

"Mhrhmph," a half dozen voices answered.

*

"You need your vegetables," The cook said.

"I was asking about desert," Reese answered.

"I can see your plate from here. If you're not hungry enough to finish what's on your plate, you're not hungry enough for desert."

"But the mashed potatoes taste terrible," Reese complained. "And I like mashed potatoes."

The cook frowned. "Those are mashed turnips."

"Turnips?" Reese frowned back. "You are a cruel woman."

*

"You claim you were supposed to be in Slytherin," Fred explained.

"Obviously," Matthew retorted.

"Of course it's obvious, Fred," George told his brother with a wink. "The Zellers are well known purebloods. They always go to Slytherin. And they supported You-Know-Who all along."

"We did not," Matthew said indignantly. "You-Know-Who didn't want supporters. He wanted followers. Father told me how those Death Eaters would talk to him about giving his 'undying loyalty.' The Zellers serve no one (the boy smirked) unless they pay for the pleasure."

"You see, George," Fred replied. "That's why Matt was put in Gryffindor. The hat wants the houses to stick together, but the Slytherins won't do it."

"I understand," George admitted. "So it puts the good Slytherins in different houses instead. Do you agree, Matt?"

"My name is Matthew," the boy insisted. "And why would I be put in the wrong house deliberately?"

"Because the hat knows," George whispered. "HE's back. Just ask Harry Potter."

"I've read the Daily Prophet," Matthew said sarcastically. "That Potter is a borderline nutter."

"Maybe," Fred told him. "You could talk to Malcolm. He was there. He saw."

"You're lying."

"Fine. When you're done eating we'll walk you over to the Slytherin table and trade you for one of their first years."

Matthew gave an evil grin. "Like Malcolm's brother?"

"And you know he's also Draco Malfoy's cousin?"

Matthew paused as doubt entered his mind. Maybe something was wrong. That muggle appeared on the train and even said so. He was put in the wrong house. And now these two scheming twins were trying to convince him that Voldemort had returned. But Matthew was ambitious and he knew how to handle any situation, even one he didn't expect.

"What do you want from me?"

Fred and George smiled. "We want you to stay and become our good friend."

Matthew smiled as the territory suddenly became familiar. "And what is in it for me?"

"Money?" Fred offered.

"I've plenty. You can't have enough."

"A new reputation?" George suggested. "You made a very poor first one to almost everybody."

"Not for a Slytherin with my breeding."

"Perhaps I can help," Lee Jordan offered. "Matthew, your father has leases on several properties in Diagon Alley and Fred and George are looking to open up a shop after they graduate. Having you as a friend would help them, especially since you and the Weasleys have the same attitude towards You-Know-Who."

Matthew snorted. "But he's gone, everyone says so."

"I don't. The Weasleys don't. Harry Potter doesn't."

"But the Daily Prophet does and the Minister does and . . .ohhh."

"What?" three voices whispered.

"Someone said something to father recently that is rather interesting in view of what you have told me. A business associate asked him if he knew where he stood." Matthew paused for effect. "I don't believe you, but I'm not calling any of you a liar. I'll leave that matter open. Now, back to business. What business are you planning on conducting?" He remembered the incident on the train. "And do I need to ask that question?"

"It's a Joke Shop," George said. "With our own creations."

Matthew's eyes grew wide with anticipation as George handed him a sample. "What does it do?"

"There's the rub," Fred explained. "We know what it's supposed to do. But we haven't been able to field test any of them."

"Them? As in more than one concoction? Then you'll need volunteers." Matthew thought quickly as he thought about numbers. "I'll talk to the other first years. I can get them to agree but you have to be able to pay."

"We can," Fred assured him.

"But," George added, "you have everyone hating you. How are you going to get them to agree with anything you suggest."

"That will be easy," Matthew prevaricated. "I was only acting that way because I was sure I was going to end up in Slytherin. I wanted to guarantee that I fit in properly. Imagine my surprise, and joy, to discover that the Sorting Hat freed me from the yoke forced upon be by my father."

"And you expect them to believe that?"

"I'll be following that line with your offer for their services. Everyone loves money. Now, how much are we talking about?"

"First," Fred asked seriously, "What are you getting out of this."

Matthew Zeller smiled widely. "The first friends that I ever made at Hogwarts are opening up a joke shop. That is what I am getting out of this."

"Impeccable logic for an eleven year old," George said to Fred, them turned back to Matthew. "Now, dear friend, let's get back to business."

*

Anthony screamed.

"You're not supposed to be here," Sir Nicholas said as he eyed the muggle boy.

"He's a guest," Dennis said. "Anthony, this is our house ghost, Nearly, um, Sir Nicholas."

"I hope you enjoy your visit," Sir Nicholas said as he tipped his head. Anthony could only be grateful that he had nothing in his mouth at the time.

"My pleasure, Sir," the boy mumbled, unsure of how to talk to a ghost.

"That is what I like about this group of students," Sir Nicholas said. "They always know how to express themselves courteously. Unlike some of the older students."

[_I'm guessing somebody said something. Sir Nicholas can be touchy about certain subjects._]

Anthony became used to the ghost and even managed to ask a few questions. Sir Nicholas enjoyed the attention and floated around the group until the end of desert. When Dumbledore rose to speak, the ghost excused himself and floated out of the way.

"Forbidden Forest?" Anthony asked as he listened to the short speech.

"Too many Werewolves and Giant Spiders," Colin explained. "And the Centaurs live there, as well. They're not very fond of humans."

"And what are the Dark Arts?"

"Evil Wizards," Dennis said, as everyone gave a quick glance at Malcolm.

"Are you an evil Wizard, Malcolm."

"No, but I met one a few months ago."

"What was he like?"

"Evil is a very good description. If I wanted to give a better description, I'd say very evil. Don't worry. It's not something you have to deal with."

Anthony nodded. The world of magic was not that different from his own world.

"Hem, Hem." The words filtered through the conversation and everyone turned to see a short fat pink lady at the teachers table.

[_She looks familiar. I think I've seen her before._]

"That's the new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Malcolm explained. 

After listening for a short time, Anthony admitted, "She does sound like a teacher, and not one of the good ones. Just listen to her and nod your head and you'll pass with flying colors."

"Muggles have teachers like that?" Amber asked.

"Apparently, and so do we," EJ said, but he wasn't smiling.

"I can handle her," Malcolm smiled. "It'll be easy."

[_I'll have to let Mom and Dad know. I have a plan._]

"I don't know," Amber said. "She doesn't sound very friendly."

"All it takes to control someone like that is to make them trust you completely."

"That leaves you out," EJ said and everyone laughed.

*

"Hey. Hey, you lot. Midgets," Ron called out.

"Is he your brother?" Matthew asked.

"That's our baby brother," Fred explained.

"Is he trying to be liked less than I am?"

Matthew joined the first years, including a mildly surprised Euan Abercrombie. "Isn't this wonderful," Matthew said. "I had prepared my self so hard for Slytherin, I never realized I had a choice."

"That was an act?" Euan said in disbelief.

"I don't believe it either," Jenny said from behind them.

"If I was sitting at that other table, I would have fit right in," Matthew said. "Fred and George helped me understand my luck."

"You're happy about being in Gryffindor?" Two voices asked.

"Why shouldn't I be. I can be myself instead of father's little puppet." Matthew paused and put his hand to his black eye. With a smile he asked, "Do I owe either of you an apology for the way I acted?"

Euan smirked. "We'll call it even."

"Thanks. I did overact on the train. I think I'll keep this as reminder to be myself instead of what people think I should be."

Euan arched an eyebrow at Jenny, who shrugged her shoulders.

*

Albus Dumbledore signaled for Malcolm to bring Anthony to the teacher's table once the feast was over. They waited for the tables to clear then walked up to the headmaster.

"Did you enjoy your visit?" Dumbledore asked.

"It was an experience I will never forget."

"Hem, Hem."

Dumbledore smiled at Professor Umbridge. "Anthony, this is our newest Professor for the Defense of the Dark Arts."

"Yes, Sir. I heard your announcement, earlier. It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor Umbridge."

"I'm sure it would seem that way. Professor Dumbledore tells me that you are a muggle." "Yes Professor."

Umbridge drew her wand. "This won't hurt at all, young man. Don't be afraid. You'll awaken with fresh unmagical memories in the morning."

Albus held up his hand. "My apologies, Professor Umbridge, but we need Anthony to remember what he has witnessed here. He will be performing an important task for us at his own school. You may have heard of Malcolm?"

"He's that reckless Animagus. I know about him."

[_Finally, a positive reference. I was getting tired of being called a lowlife._]

Albus smiled. "His brother, Reese, is a student at Anthony's school, and they have already formed a close bond of friendship."

[_I didn't know that. And from the look on Anthony's face, neither did he._]

Albus continued. "Reese does tend to be rambunctious at times, and Anthony has agreed to help keep an eye on him."

[_Just reread my last line._]

"That doesn't sound proper but I will take your word for it," Umbridge said carefully, then added in a firm voice, "until the Ministry tells me otherwise."

Albus smiled and dismissed the two boys, sending Malcolm off to his room and sending Anthony off with Argus Filch. He then firmly, but politely, ushered Professor Umbridge in the other direction.

*

Professor McGonagall walked into the common room and sent someone to the first years dorm for Matthew Zeller. The boy came down the stairs, followed by a couple of his curious dorm mates.

"I have talked with Professor Snape, and Professor Dumbledore. They both agree that something was wrong with the Sorting Hat. If you will come with me, I will escort you to your proper house.

Matthew Zeller was at a loss for words. He had carefully laid out a persona that would endear him to the Slytherins who's trust he needed, only to have the Sorting Hat send him to a different house. With masterful skill, he had diffused much of the anger against him, and formed a new persona of a wide-eyed youth with a controlling father who was on his own for the first time in his life. If he went with Professor McGonagall, everyone would know he was a conniving two-faced liar who would say anything to get what he wanted. His choice was obvious.

"But I've already made friends here." He looked back to see one of the boys, Euan, nodding his head.

Professor McGonagall looked at him in surprise. "Do you mean to tell me that you want to stay?"

"Please," Matthew said. If nothing else, he wanted to stay to find out why Euan had backed him up since there was nothing in it for him.

"Very well. I will inform the headmaster."

When McGonagall left, Zeller turned to the other boy. "Why did you do that?"

"Why did you tell her you wanted to stay?" Euan smiled. "I know you, Zeller. You are a schemer and a liar, but you said you wanted to stay. I'm giving you a chance to prove you deserve it. Don't let me down."

"And what's in it for you?"

"I helped a friend," Euan said, and went back upstairs.

Matthew went to bed that night wondering what kind of mess he had landed himself in.


	13. The First Day of School

A/N A quick note to Vmorticia. I wasn't thinking about that. I kept concentrating on spelling. Thanks for picking that up. I've made the proper changes..

  


CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

  


"Mom, you have to let me come home," Reese shouted into the phone. "This place is terrible."

"Reese, you've only been there one day. Classes haven't even started yet."

"But Mom, they're sending me to Orientation. They want to make me Chinese or something. Mom ? Mom?"

*

"Hem, Hem," Professor Umbridge began. "Welcome to your first day of education in the proper method of Defense against the Dark Arts. For today's class, I want all of you to open your books and read Chapter One. Are there any questions? Malcolm?"

"Professor, Is there going to be a test on this."

Umbridge took umbrage at that remark. "I would assume that, since it is the class lesson you will be expected at some point to show that you have read the text thoroughly. Are there any other questions? Malcolm."

"Is there going to be a test today, because I forgot to bring my quill."

"Malcolm, why don't you see me after class. You can use mine, to show me how well you've learned."

[_I'm on her good side already._]

*

Severus Snape swept into the classroom.. He took the role and looked up when he was done. The first years from Gryffindor and Slytherin were sitting quietly waiting for him to say something. Then he began his standard introduction.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death . . ."

"Professor."

Snape looked at the waving hand in disgust. "What is it, Dewey?"

"Stop who's death, Sir?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you were going to stop her death. I just wanted to know who's going to die. Is it her?"

Dewey pointed at one girl arbitrarily. It was a Gryffindor named Jenny. She stood up and looked at Snape with sudden apprehension.

"Am I going to die, Professor?"

"No, you are not going to die."

"That's right," Dewey shouted, "Professor Snape is going to save you."

"Save her, Professor," another Slytherin boy shouted as encouragement.

Several others took up the shout and Jenny ran in tears to Professor Snape. "Please save me. I don't want to die."

"You are perfectly safe," the Potions Professor said as he patted the girl on the back. "Please return to your seat."

"He did it," someone shouted and the entire class cheered as Jenny dried her eyes and sat down again.

Severus Snape looked out over the class and saw twenty worshipful faces waiting for him to begin the lesson. He was more afraid than he had ever been in his life.

"It was horrible," he explained to the Headmaster after the class was over. "All of them payed attention to every word I said. One student even asked how many house points he lost for answering a question wrong. I felt . . . trapped."

"There, there, Severus," Albus said consolingly. "You can't make every student hate you. This had to happen someday."

"It's HIS fault," Snape insisted. "We should never have let him into this school. We should never have let his brother into this school. We should have deported the whole family the first time they ever came to this country. We should have . . ."

"Please calm down, Severus. This is only a small matter. He is only one student." Albus whispered into his ear. "And he will graduate in only 2,495 days."

"Did Malcolm tell you that?"

"I overheard him telling his friends. I thought you would find the figure amusing."

"I will let you know in 2,496 days.

*

"Who can name the six wives of Henry VIII? Reese?"

"My brother."

The History Professor stared over the edge of his glasses at the American boy. "I don't understand your answer."

"You asked me who would know the names of the wives of Henry whatever. My brother would. He smart when it comes to things like that."

"Actually, Reese, " the teacher said as the students snickered, "I wanted to know if you could name his six wives."

No way. The only reason I even know he had six wives is because my dad went through this Rick Wakeman phase two years ago. He loved that album and listened to it constantly until I used it as a frisbee. You know, they don't fly as well as you might think."

"Reese, how much do you know about British history?"

"Get Real. I've only been living here for a couple of months. I just found out two weeks ago that you had a Queen."

*

"Hem, Hem," Professor Umbridge began. "Welcome to your first day of education in the proper method of Defense Against the Dark Arts. For today's class, I want all of you to open your books and read Chapter One. Are there any questions? Dewey? Your brother is that boy, Malcolm?"

"Yes Ma'am," Dewey said and sadly lowered his hand. "I suppose I shouldn't bother to ask any questions."

Umbridge took interest in that remark. "Why do you say that?"

"Well." Dewey squirmed in his seat. "You said you knew Malcolm. If I go asking questions, you'll think I'm a troublemaker."

The Professor smiled her sweetest smile, and even tried to put some sincerity behind it. "Why don't you ask your question, and I'll tell you if it is a good question. If it isn't, I will explain why."

Dewey tried to smile at the encouragement. "I wanted to ask about the reading assignment."

"About whether or not there will be a test."

Dewey snorted. "No, that would be silly. Of course you'll test us at some point to see if we've learned anything."

Umbridge's smile became sincere without any effort.

Dewey asked his question. "You said that you wanted us to read the first chapter as part of the lesson. Will you explain things in the book that we don't understand, or are you going to teach us something else, just so we can appreciate opposing points of views. My teacher did that in my old school. It was nice for a week but after that I got tired about hearing about bad King John, and reading about how he was betrayed by history."

"That was a delightful question, Dewey, but a bit long-winded. This book, and the others I will have you read, will tell you the best way, in the experience of the Ministry, to fight against the Dark Arts. It is the belief of the Ministry that the best method to combat evil is a united front. And the best way to build a united front is to teach everyone of you to fight the same way."

"That's great," Dewey said with an infectious grin. "Thanks, Professor Umbridge. I'm sure glad I got you as a teacher. If the rest of my teachers are as great as you and Professor Snape, this school is going to be great."

"Oh, is Professor Snape a good teacher."

Yes, Ma'am. He's not as open as you are, smiling and stuff. He tries to look stern all the time but I've already learned to tell when he's happy about something. His lip twitches. At first I thought he might be like my neighbor. His lip would twitch whenever he forgot to take his medicine. But then Professor Snape asked me a question, and when I got it right, he told me and his lip started twitching. That's how I know."

"I will remember that, Dewey, and thank you for you confidence in me. Are there any other questions? Then begin reading."

*

"Do you believe that? He's getting someone to teach me, outside of class. That's inhuman." Reese was ready to hit someone but then he would have no one to talk to.

"I know," Anthony said with despair. "Even though I'm in a lower class, the headmaster thought I would make an excellent tutor."

"You're going to try and teach me?"

"No," Anthony admitted. "I talked to your brother, Dewey, and he told me the best way to handle this. I will do your homework for you, then give you a brief explanation of what it was about. All you have to do is give me your homework assignments every day. Also, help me out if someone tries to bully me."

"I can do that," Reese said, then stopped a passing student. "You're in all my classes aren't you."

"All of the standard ones," the student admitted carefully.

"Tell him what my homework is at the end of the day, everyday."

"Um," the student said as Bill and his gang passed by. Bill was about to say something to the student when he noticed Reese. Painful memories crossed his face and he waved his friends onward without making a remark.

"It's not a problem," the student said.

Satisfied, Reese walked off to find something that interested him.

"You'll still be able to do MY homework?" the student asked Anthony.

"It's not a problem. The price is still five a month per subject. Which one's do you need help with?"

"Almost all of them," the student said as he handed over a list and thirty pounds.

*

"Good Morning, Renakka," Francis said angrily as he showed up at the shaman's cabin.

"I see you had your life changing event," Ralph said with a grin.

"Don't try to turn my wrath by reminding me of something joyful," Francis said, "I have a few bones to pick with you. Why didn't you tell me your real name?"

"Because I prefer being called Ralph. It's a nickname most of the logger's use anyway. It's a comfy name."

Francis looked confused. "A comfy name?"

Ralph leaned forward in his chair. "Francis, can you possibly imagine a situation where somebody might say, 'Hey, Ralph, will you join me in a beer? Of course you could. Somebody named Ralph fits right in. I like fitting in."

"Okay, that makes sense. But why did you tell me you were rich?"

"Because I'm a shaman. If I told you I was poor and did this for a living, you would think I was a nut case. If I'm rich, I'm a fashionable eccentric. Plus if people think you have a lot of money, they pay attention. It worked on you."

"Um, yeah," Francis admitted, "But why did you tell me you were born in Brooklyn?"

"I got tired of telling people I was born in LA. Too many Californians kept coming up here and asking what part. We rarely get any New Yorkers up here."

"Ralph, where were you really born?"

"Right over there." He pointed to the corner where the bed was.

"You were born on that very bed?"

"Are you kidding. That bed is barely ten years old. But the bed I was born on was on that very spot. That's where my brother was born and my sister, both my little girls and my son." Ralph threw his hands in the air as he got up. "But times change. My first grandson was born in a hospital in Calgary, Alberta. My second one, by my other daughter, was born in a hospital in Denver, Colorado. Do you believe that? Denver."

"That's amazing. Both your daughters married and left? And your son?"

"He left and married. I'm a Shaman. He's a doctor. The family tradition takes a new turn. That's why I teach, Francis, to whoever wants to learn. Anyone with a spark of magic can learn to use it. Even you."

"Wait a minute. Are you saying that I can learn to do magic."

"You're enough like me, you could learn. It'll take time, but in ten years you could probably be able to make a fire just by using magic."

"Ten years? My brother Malcolm learned to do that in fifteen minutes."

Ralph smiled. "It just shows how much more magic he has than you do. Look at it this way. If you ever learn to do it, you'll save a fortune in matches. Is that worth something?"

Francis sat down. "Not really. A lot of places give matches away."

"It's your choice." Ralph waved him away. "If you still want to work for me, I will pay you."

"I never asked. How much are you paying me?"

"Room and board, for two now, and how about ten bucks a day, or two Galleons if you prefer."

"Where would I spend Galleons?"

"Oh, that's right. You don't want to learn any magic because you'll never do any of the fancy stuff. I'll pay you ten dollars a day for services rendered."

"Uh, Ralph. How hard is it. I mean, do I have to give up ten hours every day and all that."

"I'll pay you five dollars and one Galleon a day," Ralph said. "This is your first lesson. Magic is Real. Magic is real for you. Come back when you believe it. In the meantime, here's a list of thing to get from Lavernia's place. And this time, don't pick a fight with her."

"Wait a minute. She picked that fight, and I did manage to knock her out . . . at least they told me I did."

*

Miss Pembroke looked at her class and smiled. Most of them gave the standard answers, but there were a couple who had interesting ideas. "Nob, it's your turn. What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I don't know. I never thought about it."

"You never thought about being an adult?"

"No."

"Why don't you try thinking about it now."

"Okay."

"And?"

"I'm thinking."

The teacher waited for a short while, then asked again.

"I'm still thinking."

"What do you like to do for fun? Maybe you can do something like that."

"I like to shout curses at my brothers. Can I get a job cursing people?"

Miss Pembroke smiled politely. "Why don't we talk about this after class, Nob?"

Nob frowned. He answered another question wrong.

*

"Hi, honey. I'm home," Hal shouted happily.

Lois shoved a letter in his face. "Did you know about this?"

"Yeah," Hal lied carefully. "I talked to Malcolm about it. He said he would take care of it."

"Why didn't you tell me? They're going to take Nob away from us because he isn't ours."

"Malcolm will take care of it." Hal said. "Oh, look at the time. I told the Weasleys I would check on their house."

Hal ran down the path to the Burrow quietly shouting, "Please be home. Please be home."

*

"You wanted to talk to me," Malcolm said as he entered Professor Umbridge's office.

"You asked a foolish question in class today. If you are supposed to be so smart, why don't you explain why?"

"Because . . ."

"I want you to write the reason down." She handed him a quill.

Malcolm took the quill and a piece of parchment. He dipped the quill in the inkwell and began to write. "Ow. What the hell was that." A sharp pain went through his wrist.

"Consider it a learning experience," Umbridge said with a smile. "Please continue to write your explanation."

"No."

"No?"

"You don't care what my reason is. You don't care if it's a good reason. You only care that I won't follow your plan. I refuse to take detention with you, or even take your class."

Umbridge smiled maliciously. "That is gross misconduct on your part, young man. That could be grounds for expulsion."

"Good. It's better than having to take half these stupid classes."

"Get back here, young man," Umbridge shouted to no avail as Malcolm transformed and flew out the open window.

*

"Enjoy your lunch," the assistant called out, and David Winter happily left to spend the afternoon outside. It was the perfect Washington day. Yesterday's rain solved the humidity problem but the temperature was still in the upper 80's. He took his time and walked to the Tidal Basin and found a lonely spot, well away from the tourists. That was where the owl found him.

"What, no letter," David asked in amusement, then a horrid thought struck him. "Malcolm?"

"I need a favor," Malcolm said as he stood up..

"You do understand that you are only a few thousand miles away from your school."

"That's okay. I'll probably be expelled anyway. I ran out of detention."

David smiled wryly. "I'm sure you had a good reason."

"Yeah. I need an official letter from the Department of Health and Human Services stating that Nob's placement was forestalled because of our sudden necessary move, and that the British Government is supposed to supply confirmation."

"Malcolm, are you serious? You want the American government to admit that we were going to let you raise a house elf?"

"That's the cool part. He's not a house elf anymore. Remember? I even have a new picture."

David looked at the picture carefully. "Is this real? He has your smile . . . and your hair . . . AND you eyes? Malcolm, he turned himself into you?" David took a deep breath. "It is only your appearance, isn't it?"

"Mom has him check the grocery receipts to make sure the clerk didn't make a mistake."

David frowned. "Malcolm, do they know the truth about Nob? Do they know that he is really a house elf?"

"None of the forms asked us to list species. That's why I need the letter. If they think it's just a glitch, they'll back off. Otherwise, they'll take him because we don't have the proper forms."

"Fine. I'll talk to some friends." David Winter accepted the fact that he was doomed. "Who do we send the letter to, and how?"

Malcolm smiled. "Here's a copy of the letter they sent us. Just fax your letter to that address."

"Fax?"

"It's a muggle thing. Tell one of the secretaries and they'll take care of it."

"Fine. And Malcolm. Please return to school, immediately."

As Malcolm flew away, David frowned again. Those annoying muggles and their paper trails. He apparated back to his office. It would be best to get this done today while he still had time.

*

"Hem. Hem. You do know what that boy did, Professor Dumbledore. Why isn't he being expelled?"

"That is for his Head of House to decide. In this case, Professor McGonagall. She has told me that there are precedents in her house of students refusing to attend certain classes. She will act on those precedents. The far greater matter is that he refused detention. I assure you that once we find Malcolm, he will regret his actions."

Professor Umbridge sneered. "I doubt that boy will regret anything."

As she stormed off, Albus added softly, "I fear that you are right."

*

"Enid, look at this. It's a letter from the Americans, about that case of yours."

"Thanks, Mick." She read the letter carefully. "Have you read this. This is in response to the letter I mailed yesterday. I have never had a reply this quickly."

"I have read it, and it's a fine mess you have to deal with. Foster child and Witness Protection Service. Don't forget the secrecy clause."

Enid shook her head. "It's no problem at all. From the way this reads, they were going to adopt him, anyway. I'll start the proceedings. We will need to interview everyone in the family."

Mick smiled. "Aren't you happy you decided to work late?"

*

"Malcolm," Lois said. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah, but I had to let you know. I took care of it."

"Of what?"

"Nob. Mr. Weasley said Dad was in a panic when he told him. I was lucky that the teacher who received his message found me so quickly. I talked David Winter into sending a form letter saying you have legal custody."

"And that was this afternoon? When Hal came home from work?

[_The only good thing about the way Mom looks right now is that she isn't thinking about me._]

"I've got to go," Malcolm said, and flew away as quickly as he could.

*

"He's back?" Professor McGonagall asked the next morning.

"He came in about three in the morning," Albus said. "He fell asleep in the owlery."

"Why does he do these things? Sometimes I don't understand him."

"It is simple, Minerva. He told me during his first year. He doesn't trust us. He doesn't trust magic. He has the need to do things on his own."

"I'll start making a list," Professor McGonagall said. "I'm sure there are plenty of things he can do on his own."

"Please remember, Minerva. He had good personal reasons for what he did. Which reminds me. He spends a great deal of time in the owlery. I'm sure the owls would like a nice clean floor."

"I"ll add it to my list."

*

Professor Umbridge took her time writing her letter to the Minister. She then walked briskly to the owlery and grabbed one of the dozing school owls, tying the letter to its foot. "Off with you, you stupid bird. You can sleep later."

[_What the . . . ?_]

The owl squawked, then flew away with the letter.

Professor Umbridge smiled. Minister Fudge would help her deal with that recalcitrant. Malcolm. He would regret the day they ever met.


	14. The Second Day

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE SECOND DAY

  


[_This is so stupid. How did I get stuck doing this. I bet I'm delivering a letter about me._]

Malcolm landed and changed back to his human form. He unwrapped the letter from his leg and waved his wand over it.

[_Protection Spell. Letter can't be opened except by the person it's addressed to. Otherwise it sets of a magical alarm and deletes the message._]

Malcolm waved his wand and opened the letter. He read the letter, nodded, and rolled it back up. He waved his wand over it, and tied the parchment back to his leg. He changed back and resumed his flight to the Ministry of Magic, with a slight detour. He arrived at the street that Dewey had mentioned, but he didn't see the house. So he decided to wait for a while in case he saw someone he recognized.. After five minutes he fell asleep.

*

Tonks was bored. She was scouting the area surrounding the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, but nothing was out of place. She rested against a tree, and watched as a suspicious looking man walked along. She had seen him plenty of times before but he still looked suspicious. The man turned the corner, and there was nothing to see. Then Tonks looked up.

"Whotcher. Are you lost, little'un?"

Malcolm woke up and looked down. "Whoo," he said.

"You, you silly thing," Tonks replied with a laugh. For a bit of fun she then changed her nose into a beak.

Malcolm ruffled his feathers and stared. He flew down from the tree and looked around.

Tonks laughed again. "Sorry to frighten you like that."

"I didn't expect it," Malcolm said as he stood up, and Tonks gave a squeal of surprise.

"I know you. We've met before. Whotcher, Malcolm." She held out her hand. "It's Tonks."

"You're welcome, but what did I do."

"You are the daft one. That's my name, Tonks."

"Sorry."

Tonks laughed again. "Don't be. I get that all the time. You said that the first time we met."

"I did?"

"I was the one who was going to take your place but there was a change of plans."

[_Yeah. Draco Malfoy and the spoiled house elf._]

"You can change your shape?"

"They didn't tell you? I'm a metamorphmagus."

"Can you do animals?"

"Like an owl? I can do parts, but I have to stay human mostly. Why? What were you thinking? You are a bit young for me." Tonks laughed as Malcolm blushed.

"Can I ask a favor? I was looking for a house."

"Can't help you," Tonks said, the grin still strong on her face. "If you can't find the house, it isn't there."

[_I do have the second best thing. She knows what I'm talking about_.]

"Can you read a letter for me and tell me what you think?"

Malcolm held out the parchment. Tonks pointed out the name on the parchment and shook her head. Malcolm waved his wand over the parchment and Tonks smiled as the Minister's name disappeared and her own name took its place."

"That's a useful trick." Tonks took the parchment and unrolled it.

"When you deliver the mail, you learn a few things," Malcolm replied. "Is your privacy spell still working."

"You noticed that? You are a smart one."

"Thanks. What do you think, about the letter?"

"It is . . . interesting," Tonks said. "What's with this lady?"

"She's from the Ministry, and I think she's on an ego trip."

Tonks nodded. "Albus was right. The Minister for Magic does not trust him. And this lady is trouble, Malcolm. Stay far away from her."

"She wants me forced back into her class or expelled. What can I do?"

"I've got an idea," Tonks said. She seemed to shimmer and Malcolm was looking into his own face. He pointed at her/his hair.

"The bubblegum color adds an interesting touch."

"I'll add a nose ring or two," Tonks said with a laugh. "We'll give you a better image." The hair shimmered and became the proper color. "Why don't I return to school in your place." She paused, and said in a perfect imitation of Malcolm's voice. "Is this cool or what?"

[_That was good._]

"Malcolm, is there anything I need to know?"

"Here's the my class schedule, the password to Gryffindor is Golden Snitch and if you need to get into my trunk, just kick it and say 'open up'."

"The password to your trunk is 'open up'?"

"It used to be 'hey, open up', but I changed it when I added the kick."

Tonks grabbed a quill and parchment and quickly wrote a note. "Best you deliver that letter to the Minister in one piece, and drop this off to Albus when you're done. I'll see you at Hogwarts."

"Thanks," Malcolm said sincerely, "but why are you doing this. It's nice for me but . . ."

"You're supposed to be smart, Malcolm. Isn't it obvious. If you're at the school taking your classes, then you can't be the owl that is delivering her letters."

[_I can't tell if that's a good thing._]

"But I can't be an owl all of the time."

"You won't have to be. Only when Professor Umbridge needs to post a letter. And you still have to do your own homework. I'll hand it in for you but that is as far as I go."

*

"Complaints already," Cornelius Fudge mused. "I told her to observe only. What do you make of this, Lucius. Your son is a mate of this boy Malcolm."

Lucius Malfoy smiled as he took the letter from the Minister. He also smiled as he saw the owl watching him. "It's worse than that, Cornelius. This boy is my nephew."

"Is he the lowlife that everyone says is related to you?"

The owl squawked.

"Lowlife? I think not. I have found him to be an honest albeit impetuous young man."

"I trust what you are telling me, Lucius but I must explain my concern. Dumbledore claimed that Malcolm will support his statements about You-Know-Who."

Lucius smiled. "Did you ask Malcolm?"

"Of course not . . ."

"There you have it," Lucius said smoothly. "If you could ask Malcolm this instant, he would assure you that he knows nothing about all of this." Lucius paused and looked at the owl. "Isn't that correct, Malcolm?"

"I can explain everything," Malcolm said quickly. "It wasn't my fault. All she's doing is giving us books to read, and I read all of them before the first class. . . ."

[_Only the first one, but I did read all the titles on the rest of them._]

" . . . And when I tried to explain, she cut me off, so I went and hid in the owlery. Then she grabbed me when I was sleeping and wrapped the letter around my leg." He shrugged his shoulders. "What could I do?"

[_They don't have to laugh like that._]

"That," Cornelius Fudge said with difficulty, "is the funniest excuse I have heard in a long time. You were actually forced to deliver her complaint against you?"

"Ir's an owl thing, Sir. You wouldn't understand."

[_At least he's in a good mood. I just wish he'd stop laughing._]

"Malcolm, Dumdbledore suggested that you could give evidence to support Harry Potter's wild claims about what happened during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Can you?"

"I have to insist on being completely honest. I was asleep most of that day. In fact, I spent the next few days in the infirmary with a high fever. I never went to the tournament. I even had to ask who won."

"As I told you," Lucius said proudly.

"And you remember nothing during that time?" the Minister asked.

[_There's a British saying I always liked. In for a penny, in for a pound."_]

"I do remember Uncle Lucius standing over me at one point, asking how I was. I don't remember giving him a coherent answer."

Fudge nodded. "Then you don't know anything about your old house, either."

"I was told it was a gas line explosion, Sir. A friend told me that the police were saying it was probably an accident."

"Probably?"

"Well, with Reese around you can never be too sure. And my family were away visiting friends. If it was my call, I'd say it wasn't an accident."

Cornelius Fudge nodded. "Why don't you get something to eat, Malcolm. I might as well use your abilities and let you return with my reply. I will also have a letter for Dumbledore. Can you handle two letters?"

"I can put the second one in my pocket," Malcolm explained. "Do I have to let Professor Umbridge know that I was the one who delivered her letter?"

The Minister grinned. "I think I should be the one to tell her."

Lucius put his arm on Malcolm's shoulder. "I suppose I should show my nephew around, Cornelius, unless there is something else you need to discuss?"

"I think we've covered everything, Lucius. And under the circumstances, I do thank you for coming by."

*

"You played that rather well, Malcolm," Lucius said as he escorted Malcolm to the dining room. "It is always smart to leave yourself a bolt hole. I also appreciate the fact that you left room for me, should our side not prevail."

"I'm always happy to help."

"Malcolm, surely that was not sarcasm."

"Look, Mr. Malfoy . . ."

"Uncle Lucius. Your started calling me that. Continue to do so."

"Yes Sir. Anyway, this was not the way I planned on spending my day. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I have half the teachers at school mad at me right now. Pardon me if I sound sarcastic."

"Cheer up, young man. You have made the Minister for Magic a happy man. He will surely put in a good word for you."

As they stepped into the elevator, Malcolm was surprised to see a familiar figure. "Hey, Percy."

"Hello, Malcolm. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you but I don't care for the company you keep."

"Always a Weasley," Lucius sneered. "He understands the sensible course concerning Dumbledore, but he still has his inane prejudices."

[_I feel like the referee at a boxing match. My next words should be 'we want a good clean fight'._]

"You know, just because someone agrees with you it doesn't mean that he's really a nice guy."

Percy gave a surprised smile. "Was that remark meant for your uncle or for me."

Lucius smiled thinly. "I admit I am curious about your answer."

Malcolm smiled at both of them, "Is this our floor, Uncle Lucius? I'm starving."

"You are quite the diplomat, Malcolm," Percy called out from the elevator.

"I would have used a different word," Lucius muttered to Malcolm, "but you probably wouldn't know what it means."

"I'll bet you a Galleon that I do."

*

"My, you are an efficient little thing," Umbridge said as the owl flew into her window and perched on her desk. It raised its foot and the Professor untied the letter. As she opened the letter, the owl flew to the floor, and Malcolm stood up.

"Before you read that letter I just want to say that I'm very, very sorry. I didn't mean any of it. I'll never do it again. I'll even write the Declaration of Independence fifty times with that quill if you want me too."

Dolores Umbridge controlled her surprise with relative ease. With equal ease she guessed where Malcolm had hidden and that she was the reason he could not be found. With a thinly veiled smirk, she opened the letter."

"You're not in America, Malcolm. You should offer to copy the Magna Carta. But why don't we wait until I read what the Minister has to say before I decide what to do?"

"You're going to kick me out." Malcolm looked completely defeated.

"When I get bored with your games I will do just that, but the Minister has made a better suggestion. I believe I will let the Headmaster decide your punishment. I am curious to see if he is as lackadaisical as I think he is. You may go, Malcolm." As Malcolm opened the door, she called him back. "Young man, I want you to understand this. When I want a favor from you, you will do it, no questions asked. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You may go, you horrid boy."

*

"Sit down, Malcolm" Albus Dumbledore said. He was not smiling.

"I have a letter for you, Professor. From the Minister."

"You have had a busy day." Dumbledore took the letter and quietly read it. "I will have to tell Tonks that her scheme will not work, as Professor Umbridge knows you are the owl who delivered the letter. I doubt that it was a good idea anyway. It would be difficult for someone to impersonate you. They would always do something predictable, and that would show their hand."

"Yes, Sir."

"Malcolm, I have already spent too many days with you. I want to know why you are here in my office."

"Because I walked out of my detention."

"To be accurate, you flew out. And you flew to David Winter. Why?"

"It's the government paperwork, Sir. They didn't have any record of Nob and they started to make inquiries. I ask Mr. Winter to send them a letter telling them that the paperwork was done in the United States, but because of the Witness Protection Program, they couldn't finalize it. Now, the British government will assume it's taken care of."

"Malcolm, if I had not told you, in the presence of your family, that I would deal with such a problem if it arose, you might have had a convincing argument. Again, I will ask you why? And why the charade of storming out of detention?"

[_I swear it. He knows what I'm doing._]

"My dad asked me to take care of it. He gets emotional about this, and I felt I had to do it. I planned to pretend I hid in the owlery all night, but then Professor Umbridge . . ."

"I know the rest, Malcolm. And I do not consider it a satisfactory answer. Do you have anything else you wish to add?"

Malcolm hung his head. "No, Sir."

"Very well. Professor McGonagall is waiting to escort you back to Gryffindor. She has a few ideas of her own on how to deal with you."

Albus Dumbledore brusquely showed Malcolm to the door. 

[_He's actually scowling at me. I almost willing to tell him._]

*

Professor McGonagall sat Malcolm down. She was scowling as well. "It is my decision as to what should be done with you. Expulsion is still on the list. Why should I let you stay at Hogwarts?"

"There isn't any," Malcolm said sadly. "I've made such a mess of things, it would be best for everyone if I left."

"Please, Malcolm. Maudlin does not become you."

"I mean it. I was trying to be nice, but some people don't care. Professor Umbridge wants everyone to fit in the same box, and we can't. I was trying to make that point, and it got out of hand. Now she hates me."

"So you decided to fly to your old home and made a detour?"

"No. I needed to disappear for awhile, so I decided to spend the time delivering a message for my dad. Dumbledore even asked me why I didn't talk to him about it."

"And you said?"

"Nothing."

McGonagall frowned, but with concern, not anger. "What happened, Malcolm? Between you and me."

"You won't tell?"

"Not even if it would help you, but I need to know, and I think you know that."

"It was when I delivered the letter to the Minister. Uncle Lucius was there, and he recognized me." Malcolm paused. "They were talking about Harry Potter and his claims about Voldemort."

"The Minister for Magic has made his views known."

"And I pretty much confirmed them."

"Did you lie, Malcolm?"

"No, but I twisted the truth enough that it doesn't make a difference. I know you're having problems with the Ministry and I just made things worse."

"Balderdash," McGonagall said emphatically. "Cornelius Fudge is a pompous fool. The only difference you made is that he'll be slightly more smug about what he does than he would have been. And to be honest with you, Malcolm, most people won't notice the difference. Now, about your detentions . . ."

"I'm not being expelled?"

[_I'm not being expelled!_]

"For making a fool of yourself? If that was grounds for expulsion, all of the students and most of the teachers would be thrown out of here. I need to know: Do you still refuse to take Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Yes," Malcolm said darkly.

"Good. You may have lost your sanity but at least you still have your intelligence. I've asked for suggestions while I waited for you to return, and Professor Snape gave me an excellent one. The schedules coincide which makes it convenient. You are now his student aide for his first year class with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. You will also tutor any of the students if needs be."

"That's Dewey's class."

"He will be so happy to see your there."

"Can I take away house points? If someone misbehaves?"

"Only from your own house."

[_Damn. He would be in Slytherin._]

McGonagall smiled at Malcolm's scowl. "You will also tutor select first and second years in Transfiguration. I will give you the names and times. You will also make yourself available for any teacher or staff member who needs assistance as long as it does not conflict with a previous commitment. You will be the most useful student in the school. I'm sure no one will complain. You may return to Gryffindor now."

As Malcolm opened the door, he was called back. "I know more than you think, Malcolm. Dewey and I had a very informative discussion. He knows what you will be going through and he is worried. He told me several times that he may be affected by it."

[_Yeah. She did talk to Dewey._]

"Thank you, Professor. And thank Dewey for me if you get the chance. It should confuse him."

As the door closed, Professor McGonagall shook her head. She had taken away almost all of his free time for the next year and he still managed to leave her office with a smile.

*

"I won't believe it," the first year boy said. "Euan warned us about you and your tricks."

"You read the announcement they posted," Matthew Zeller said. "All I am suggesting is that we approach this as a group. We have a better bargaining position that way."

"They're paying us money," a girl pointed out. "What do we have to bargain for."

"What do we have to bargain with?" another girl asked

"It's a risk, I admit," Matthew explained, "but there is always risk in any business. I know that because my father taught me. The Weasley's tricks may be cheap spells, but they may be good. You asked what we had to bargain with. Ourselves. Ten willing and honest applicants. Their gags may be good but we can tell them if they will be popular. And you asked what we had to bargain for. Payment in kind. You test ten gags, you get ten gags to use or sell."

Euan was the first one to smile. "That could be a good deal for us but will they go for it?"

"They already have. It may cost more for them to do their tests, but there is something they'll have that is more valuable. Ten willing and confident sales people."

One boy smirked, "You are a conniving . . ."

"I prefer the word clever," Matthew said with a grin. "Does anyone object?"

No one did, at that time. Later on, Hermione Granger did, but the first years found plenty of empty classrooms.


	15. Quidditch Practice

A/N: I need to thank Black Ice for pointing out another stupid spelling error. I will correct it as soon as I have the time. And thank you, and everyone else, for reading.

  
  


CHAPTER FIFTEEN: QUIDDITCH PRACTICE

  


Malcolm sat down for breakfast when the owls came flying in to deliver the mail. Ron Weasley made an excellent catch, saving his letter from going directly into the porridge. Malcolm smiled as an owl landed directly in front of him. A delicate scent of flowers arose from the letter it was holding in its beak.

[_She finally answered._]

Malcolm carefully took the letter and offered some bacon to the owl which gratefully accepted. Courtesies completed, he opened the letter as quickly as he could.

"Its her," Ginny whispered to Hermione. "Malcolm wrote a letter and she wrote back."

"Gabrielle Delacour? The girl who dumped him for her old boyfriend?"

"The boy she went to see when she returned to Beauxbatons wasn't her boyfriend. It was her brother. Malcolm told me he wrote to apologize for not realizing his mistake."

Hermione smiled. "That was a wise move. She'll love him for it."

"Why did he apologize?" Neville asked. "It was her fault for not making things clear in the first place."

"Of course it was," Hermione answered. "And she probably realizes it. But since Malcolm wrote to her saying it was his fault, that lets Gabrielle admit her mistake without having to feel guilty about it.

Neville shook his head in confusion. "But shouldn't she feel guilty if she was wrong?"

"Not in a situation like this. Neville imagine if Ginny did something wrong and you told her to her face that she was wrong, how would she react?"

"She did, I did and she told me that I should find someone else if she's not good enough for me. We smoothed things out and we're still friends, but . . ."

Hermione was surprised at the news but took it in stride. "I'm sorry to hear that, and I won't ask what happened, but you can see the point. What you did was make Ginny feel that she owed you something. Friends can survive something like that, but not close friends. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Neville lied. "I've got to send a letter off before class. I 'll see you later." He rose from the table and left quickly, trying not to look back.

"I think he was lying. He doesn't really understand." Ginny smirked.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said. "What happened between the two of you?"

"It wasn't any one thing," Ginny said.

"It always seems to be that way."

"YES," Malcolm shouted. "YES. YES. YES."

"She asked him to forgive her," Hermione said authoritatively.

"How can you tell," Ginny asked.

Ron scowled. "Hermione, could we please talk about something other than Malcolm and his girlfriends?" He paused, then added, "Ginny, how long were you going out with Neville?"

"Since last Hallowe'en," Ginny said. "Didn't you notice that we always sat together?"

"Yes, but . . ."

"Men," Ginny said in frustration, " and brothers are the worst of the lot." She and Ron exchanged looks. "Hermione, about the letter. How can you tell?"

*

"This class will come to order," Severus Snape said as he walked into the first year potions class. Twenty obedient and cheerful students looked at him expectantly. Forty curious eyes then turned toward Malcolm. Make that Thirty Eight curious eyes and Two furious eyes.

"What's he doing here?"

"Dewey, how nice of you to ask. For the rest of you, this is Malcolm. He is the older brother of the young man who asked the question. Malcolm will be my assistant in this class for the remainder of the year, as I an extremely busy with many things in school and outside of the school as well."

Severus smiled as the students watched Malcolm.

"Go ahead, Malcolm. You know the lesson plan for today."

"You want me to teach the class?" Malcolm asked, but Snape had already left the room.

[_Great. The last thing I need right now is to be in authority. How do I handle this._]

The first years began to gather confidence as they smelled fear.

"Okay," Malcolm croaked as he found his voice. "Get out your parchment and quills."

Dewey snorted, as did several other students."

[_They know I'm scared. What do I do?_]

"What if we don't feel like it," one student said. Several others chimed in with comments. Then everyone paused when Malcolm smiled.

[_I know what to do. Treat everyone of them as though they all were Dewey._]

"You," Malcolm said, as he pointed at the boy who made the remark. The boy stood up, still grinning. "You're in Gryffindor. I've seen you around. Because this is my first day, and because you are the first one I'm dealing with, and because you are in my own house, I'll be very generous. I'll only take one house point away. SIT DOWN. As for the rest of you, the next remark out of line, the next dirty look, the next time I feel like it, I'll do the same for you, except I'll add a zero. And I'll do this because, regardless of my size or age, I am your teacher, and if you don't learn, it will be because you are too stupid. Is anyone ready to lose ten points for their house? How about you, Dewey? No?" Malcolm frowned. "I told all of you to get out your parchments and quills."

Malcolm smiled as everyone rushed to do his bidding.

[_This is fun. I think I want to be a teacher after I graduate._]

*

Albus walked up to where Severus Snape was watching the point levels for the various houses. "How is Malcolm doing?"

"I had barely left the room when he began taking away house points." Severus smiled. "From Gryffindor. Unfortunately, it was only one point, and he hasn't taken any more away."

Albus smiled. "Perhaps that is because he only needed to take one point to make his point."

"Albus, you ruined my day by telling me that."

*

"Remember, Dewey. If anybody asks, it's my broom."

Dewey sighed. He had been told this hundreds of times already. Malcolm handed the broom to his younger brother, and Dewey gratefully began to leave the Great Hall.

"Hi, Dewey," Hermione said politely. "How are you enjoying school."

"It's a lot better than I expected. I almost like it. How do you like my new broom. Malcolm got it for me."

"But first years aren't allowed to have brooms."

"I know. I have to keep it in Malcolm's dorm, and I have to tell everyone it's really his."

Hermione smiled politely as Ron came up.

"Hi, Dewey. I'm sorry you ended up in Slytherin. I hope things aren't too horrible for you."

"Slytherin is great," Dewey said enthusiastically. "Draco makes it a point to be nice to me, but that's because I promised to tell his mom everything he does."

"I should have thought of that," Ron quipped and Hermione politely laughed.

"Do you know what the best part is? Malcolm isn't there. I go back to the common room and he isn't there. I wake up in the morning and he isn't there. And when I come to the Great Hall and he is there, he has to sit all the way on the other side of the room. Slytherin is great."

Dewey walked off happily, as Ron said wistfully, "Hermione, for a second I actually wished I was in Slytherin."

Hermione politely told him to stop being stupid.

*

"This is the tryouts for Gryffindor. We are looking for a new Keeper, and we will look at anybody who wants to try for that position."

Angelina Johnson looked surprised when three candidates stepped up. Ron Weasley was no surprise. Dennis Creevey wasn't that much of a surprise, but Angelina knew that he would rather be a chaser. The third candidate was a surprise by any standard.

"Dewey? What are you doing here? First Years aren't even allowed to fly brooms without special permission, which you don't have . . ."

"Yes, I do. Madame Hooch said I could fly for the tryouts."

"That's beside the point, anyway. You're in Slytherin. You can't play for our team. It's against the rules."

"It's not against the rules to try out," Dewey said emphatically.

"It's an excuse to fly his new broom," Dennis pointed out, and Angelina laughed.

*

"Hi," Malcolm said as the second year girl came into the classroom.

"Hi," the girl said, carefully. "I'm sorry to cause all of these problems."

"I have to be here anyway," Malcolm said. "Because of all the problems I caused."

"We heard how you treated the first-years in Potions Class. You were almost as bad as Snape, except . . ." The girl had a confused look on her face.

"Except that the first years like Snape," Malcolm finished. I don't know why either, but I had to treat them like that. They hated me because of who I wasn't. It was the only way I could keep control."

The girl looked relieved. "Then you're not going to yell at me?"

"No, why would I yell? I'm only going to tutor you in Transfiguration. So, what seems to be your biggest problem?"

"I don't understand."

"What aspect of the course confuses you the most?"

"I DON'T understand."

"Look, you're taking Transfiguration, Right?"

"Yes."

"Why were you sent here?"

"I've already told you twice. I don't understand."

"That's stupid. What's so hard to understand? It's Transfiguration. You change one thing to another thing."

"How?"

"By magic. You wave your wand and think of what you want to do."

"But it doesn't work. I always think about doing the spell but it never works properly. And quit yelling at me. I don't like being called stupid."

"I didn't mean it like that. You took it the wrong way." Malcolm fumed then caught his breath. "Fine. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it. But your problem is stupid. I'm surprised nobody caught it. It's that obvious."

"It is?"

"Yeah, you told me. You keep thinking about the spell and that's wrong. You should be thinking about what you want the spell to do instead of how well you perform the spell. You should concentrate on the intent and not the procedure. Watch this." Malcolm transformed into an owl and flew around the classroom, then landed as himself.

"That was amazing to watch from close up," the girl said with a small grin.

"I can teach you the spell in five minutes, but I can't teach you to do that," Malcolm said. "When I transform I don't even think about the spell. I think about being the owl. That's what you're doing wrong. The spell is to help focus your mind, and that's true for any subject. In Transfiguration, you have to think as clearly as you can about what you want the object you're changing to become. Try this spell. Change the cup into a plate."

The girl concentrated and waved her wand. "It worked," she said happily. "I knew what I wanted, and it worked."

"I like the pattern," Malcolm said. "Now change it back."

The girl hesitated, but succeeded on her second effort. She tried several spells with varying degrees of success and Malcolm told her they were finished for the day. As the girl happily left, EJ walked into the classroom.

"How is your tutoring?"

"It's a joke," Malcolm complained. "That girl is here because she couldn't figure out how to cast a spell properly. The boy before her had this fixation about changing animals into inanimate objects and other things. And Dewey stopped by and told me that the Giant Squid says I need to control my temper."

EJ listened to Malcolm's frustrated wail in silence, then commented. "The Giant Squid may be right. You did bring this on yourself."

Malcolm sighed. "It isn't really that bad. I did such a great job with my Potions class, Snape said he might even let me give out detentions."

"That's the spirit, Malcolm. If it's good for you it must be good for everyone."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Never." EJ's grin told Malcolm that he was lying.

*

Angelina called Dewey over. "I wanted to tell you that you didn't make the team."

"I know, but it was fun. Thanks for letting me try out."

"You're welcome, Dewey, but don't let the word get out, or all the first years will try out just as an excuse to fly their brooms."

"Okay,"

Dewey happily watched as the Gryffindor team left the pitch and the Ravenclaw team took their place.

Cho Chang looked down in surprise. "You're Malcolm's brother."

"I came to try out for the Ravenclaw team."

"But you're not in Ravenclaw."

"But I can still try out."

"I saw you flying around with the Gryffindors. Did they let you try out?"

"Yeah, but I didn't make the team."

"And you can't make the Ravenclaw team. I can't let you try out." She smiled as Dewey pouted. "Besides, we have the same team as last year. No one is trying out."

"Then why are you here?"

"Cho Chang smiled. "Its our first chance to fly our brooms since the summer holiday. And why did you want to try out?"

"I have a new broom and I haven't got bored with it yet."

"First broom?" Dewey nodded. Cho winked and said, "It's really Malcolm's broom, isn't it." Dewey nodded again. "If you can stay out of our way, you can fly around the pitch, but the first time there's a problem, you're gone. Understood?"

Dewey's reply was to mount his broom and fly away.

"That's one happy first year," the Keeper said. "I'm surprised you're letting him do that. He is Slytherin after all."

Cho smiled. "I was thinking of the song the Sorting Hat sang. How the houses should stick together. I decided to be nice to each and every Slytherin until they do something to make me dislike them. I'll take them one at a time."

The Keeper laughed. "All Seventy Slytherins?"

Cho laughed as well. "I'm already down to Fifty Two. Not bad for the first week."

*

"I'm free," Malcolm said as he walked to the Gryffindor Tower. "Nothing to do until tomorrow morning except sleep."

"I'm happy for you," Harry Potter said from behind.

"Oh, hi. I thought you would be at Quidditch practice."

"Detention. With Umbridge."

"Why don't you walk out on her. I did."

"I don't have your connections," Harry said harshly. "I heard your UNCLE put in a good word for you with the Minister. That's why you're still here."

[_I guess this would be the wrong time to ask to be friends._]

"You hate me for that? Malcolm the human house elf? I get to stay but any teacher, ANY teacher can take my free time away without a reason. It's not fun to still be here."

Harry smirked. "It's not fun for me. Why did they put you in Gryffindor anyway? Your brother is in Slytherin. Your cousin is in Slytherin. Why not you?"

"Because," Malcolm said, but Harry was already walking away.

[_What's his problem?_]

*

"Good Morning, Ralph."

"Good morning, Francis. Did you decide what you're going to do?"

"Yeah. It was tempting, but I decided to pass. I don't know what I'll be doing next year, much less ten years from now. I mean, six months ago I was sitting in my room at the Academy. I never imagined this."

Ralph shrugged his shoulders. "It was worth a try, but I'll still be explaining things to you as we work together. You can always decide later if you want to learn."

"Thanks, Ralph. What do you want me to do today?"

"A friend of mine is visiting and wants to be shown around, Would you like to be the tour guide? Just show her the woods that are still here and those caves on the reservation. She'll like those."

"She? Is she a shaman, too?"

"Hardly," Ralph said with a grin. "She's a Yeti."

*

"What happened," Madam Pomfrey asked.

"He was trying out for the Hufflepuff team when he collided with one of the hoops." Susan Bones looked nervous. "Is he hurt badly?"

"Nothing too serious. He'll have to stay the night, but he'll be up and around for breakfast." Madam Pomfrey paused. "Why was a Slytherin first year trying out for the Hufflepuff team?"

"He's cute when he pouts."

"Well, now he can't try out for the only team he could play for," Madame Pomfrey said crossly. "Thanks to you."

"He wasn't very good," Susan pointed out.

*

"Malcolm?" Dewey said as he woke up. "What happened? Where am I?"

"You hit one of the hoops. You're in the infirmary. I had to waste the entire night watching you. I could have been in bed."

I'm sorry I caused you any trouble," Dewey said crossly, and rolled over to go back to sleep.

[_Great. He is going to be fine. Now I can go to bed._]

"Malcolm,"Dewey said softly. "Thanks."

"For what?" Malcolm hissed. "You're my brother. Mom would kill me if I didn't check up on you." He paused as he left the infirmary. "Good night, Dewey."

*

On Monday morning the sun came up bright and cheerful, thus making itself Malcolm's mortal enemy of the day. He dress, dragged himself down to the Great Hall and proceeded to eat breakfast. Happily he had no mail, and did not have to pause as he slowly recovered from the weekend.

[_Okay, it was a stupid idea. I should have never even bothered about the letter._]

Malcolm looked up to see Professor McGonagall standing across from him. "Professor Dumbledore wishes to talk to you at your earliest convenience. I told him you would be in his office in twenty minutes."

[_The letter did come! It worked!_]

Seventeen minutes later Malcolm was happily ensconced in a chair in the headmaster's office. Dumbledore was not pleased.

"I received this letter from the Ministry today. Apparently, the Social Welfare office was told that your parents are intending to adopt your house elf, Nob. How did they ever get such a preposterous idea."

"I told them, Sir."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in response. "And why would you do such a stupid thing?"

[_That is a good question._]

"It's hard to explain . . ."

"Please try. I have too many important things to do to have something like this hanging over my head."

"Well, it started when we were showing Nob some of our old pictures, you know, photographs."

"But your house was destroyed as well as everything in it. You had a garage and that was destroyed as well. How did your photograph albums survive."

"Reese buried them in the backyard the last time we had relatives come over. You see . . ."

Dumbledore waved his hand. "You need not explain that, Malcolm. I will assume that Reese had a reason."

[_Yeah. You know what happens when you assume._]

". . . so them and the fireworks were the only things to survive the explosion, but Dewey said that the police confiscated the fireworks."

[_I hate when he looks at me like that._]

"Anyway, we were showing Nob the album, and I pointed to a picture and said 'that's me when I was your age'. Then Nob went Poof and appeared just like me in the picture."

"What do you mean when you said 'Nob went Poof'?"

"I guess that's poor English. Then Nob said, 'Poof', and appeared the same as I did in the picture."

[_He's giving me that look again._]

Dumbledore nodded. "I remember seeing Nob. Please go on."

"Well, Nob hasn't changed back, and I don't think he will. Mom is even sending him to school with the regular kids. That's when my Dad gave me the talk about family and staying together, and I would know what to do. I didn't understand most of it, but that's because it's my dad, but he kept mentioning adoption and Nob and that he may be the last chance for a perfect son, and don't mention it in front of Nob. Plus, Mom keeps telling Nob he's one of the family, and he fits right in. They actually expected me to figure out how to do this."

"Malcolm, what they want is not legal. A house elf does not fall under muggle law. Such an adoption would not stand up in any wizarding court."

"It doesn't have to, Professor. All of that is just for show. To muggles, Nob appears human, therefore he is human. The adoption papers are signed and everyone without magic accepts that he is a part of our family. I did that because my mom won't accept it otherwise. Since she's a muggle, muggle law is what matters."

Albus shook his head. "You forget, Malcolm, that muggle law does not apply in this case."

"It does if Nob is human."

"But Nob only appears to be human. He is still an elf."

"What you see is what you get."

"We are arguing in circles, Malcolm. I can do nothing in this matter except inform you of what I have been told. There will be an inquiry by the Ministry, and it is probable that Nob will be taken away from your family because they are irresponsible." Dumbledore paused. "Why are you smiling?"

"When is the hearing?"

"In three days. The responsible family members will have to appear."

"Then it will only be me," Malcolm said happily.

Dumbledore frowned. "I know I am not going to like this, but why are you the only one responsible?"

"I forged the letter of inquiry from the Social Welfare Office."

"Ah, and that is how you managed to have a copy to show David Winter when you tracked him down in Washington."

"Yes, Sir, but his letter had a slight alteration. The letter to my folks made it seem that they were going to put Nob someplace else. The copy I gave Mr. Winter implied that they needed confirmation that Nob should stay where he is. I was worried that it might not work, but the letter from the American government was sent exactly as I had requested. It confirmed that the steps taken were already approved but couldn't be completed because of the necessary relocation of . . ."

"Malcolm, you need not be so technical. I understand your point. You lied to everyone you could so that the adoption would be approved without any delay. And now I assume you are about to give me the evidence that proves that you are the responsible party."

Malcolm cheerfully handed over an envelope. Dumbledore took the envelope and glanced at the pages inside. He sealed the envelope and wrote a note. The note attached, he gave it to a waiting owl.

"The ministry will shortly be aware of what you did, Malcolm. And may I say that it was interesting having you here as a student. Once you have your hearing it is doubtful you will ever set foot in this school again. You may go."

"Professor?"

"Did I forget something?"

"Nob isn't a house elf."

"Perhaps we should send you directly to St. Mungo's."

"I bet you I can prove it."

[_I always like the way he smiles._]

"Go ahead, Malcolm. Prove it."

"I can't prove it here. I can only prove it at my hearing."

"And what would you like to wager?"


	16. Meeting With The Minister

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: MEETING WITH THE MINISTER

  


Cornelius Fudge sat at his desk reading the report of the documents sent to him. He sat them down and glowered at Malcolm.

"Do you honestly expect to get away with this nonsense?"

"Yes, Sir."

[_Always show confidence. That's the way to win people over._]

"YOU ARE A BLASTED FOOL," Fudge shouted, causing the several people in the room to jump.

"I'm supposed to get a hearing," Malcolm pointed out. "So that I can explain myself."

"A hearing? You have already admitted to posting fraudulent documents and manipulating government officials to conduct an illegal and ludicrous action. As a courtesy to my good friend, Dolores Umbridge, I am conducting your sentencing personally instead of before the full council. Any explanation you can give is to determine why I should not send you to Azkaban."

"Cornelius," Amelia Bones interrupted. "We agreed that Azkaban was no place for a child."

Fudge snorted. "This boy is hardly a child. I think we should consider the idea, even if only as a last resort. You heard the boy. He admits his actions and wants to justify them."

"Then let him," Amelia said with authority. "He has that right. At least we'll learn why he did it."

The Minister frowned. "Go ahead boy. Make your excuses."

Malcolm took a deep breath. "The penultimate purpose of any wizard or witch, when they are interacting with the muggle world, is to keep magic a secret. For this, any means necessary may be used. I chose to use a method that involved using no magic, thus preventing the discovery of a magical creature living in a muggle environment."

"You must be joking?" Cornelius Fudge barked.

"No, sir. The house elf, Nob, was given into the custody of my parents. Having freed him, my parents were given the duty to see to his welfare, principally because of the age of the elf in question. Nob is five. When our family relocated to the British Isles, the Wizards Council agreed to accept the terms set by the American Department of Health and Human Services, Magical Families Division. This obligated my parents to continue to support Nob."

"Is this true, Amelia?"

Madame Bones nodded. "It was an experiment by the Americans to see how a house elf reacted to a normal family situation. It was considered a small detail since many wizarding families have elves." She paused. "Malcolm, you gave a legal justification for your actions. But that doesn't explain why they were necessary."

Malcolm smiled. "This is the easy part. Nob cast a spell on himself to make himself appear human. In the muggle world, it's one thing to hide a magical creature. It's another to hide a small boy. The people who see Nob are looking at five year old boy. As a result, Nob has to go to school, and do all of the other things that children are expected to do. And Nob has continued to remain in his human form. He even passed his health exam by the local doctor."

Malcolm paused as the whispering started. Percy Weasley looked up from where he was taking the minutes of the meeting. "Are you saying that your house elf used magic on a muggle?"

"No. Nob hasn't used any magic on anyone since he became human. Well, there was one instance, but it was beneficial, and that person was a wizard. He even thanked Nob. And that's why my father suggested the idea of muggle adoption. If the muggle authorities are convinced that he is their son, they will not give him a second thought. I mean, why should they. He's human. Even the doctor said so. And they'll have a piece of paper telling them who his mom and dad are."

Fudge smiled with a thought. "And what happens if he becomes a house elf again?"

"That's easy. If it's only for a little while, we tell people he's sick, but if it looks like it's permanent, we tearfully tell the police he disappeared. The worst case scenario is that his face appears on a milk carton while he goes to work at, say, Hogwarts. The point is that no magic is used in this solution, nor is the magical world compromised in any way. This is a muggle adoption and has no legal effect on Nob's status in the wizarding community."

"You are a clever boy," Fudge admitted. "But why did you take such an action and not inform the wizarding community of what you were doing."

"I did, Sir. Although I may not have done it properly. I Informed the American community, because I am still an American citizen."

"But you are a wizard, and your citizenship is not important. You are living here and you should have reported to the Ministry of Magic."

"I know now, Sir. And that was my only mistake. Part of the reason is because of precedents on solving such problems that involve my family. We always took action before informing the government, and we were usually complimented in our abilities to solve problems without the use of magic. I guess I got into the habit of acting on my own."

"That is still a serious charge in itself," Fudge said.

"If there are precedents?" Amelia Bones said with concern.

The Minister looked at her. "What? Oh, yes. That would be justification for independent action." He looked disappointed. "Malcolm, what evidence do you have?"

"I brought a witness, Sir. His name is David Winter, although he won't be in a good mood."

Cornelius Fudge looked at him with surprise. "David Winter is your witness?"

[_They know each other? I'm dead._]

Fudge continued. "Do you mean to say that the new American Consul for Magic is your witness? I am deeply impressed."

"New?" Malcolm asked.

"Weasley, escort the witness into my office."

Percy stood up and walked to the door. He opened it to see a dour faced man standing there wishing he were anywhere else in the world. David Winter walked in and stood next to the defendant.

"What did you do this time, Malcolm?"

"Nothing. Really."

"I believe you."

"We're adopting Nob, but I need your help."

David Winter grinned. "Forget it. If this group doesn't sentence you to prison for life, I'll send you some of my Aunt Emily's homemade cookies and then force feed them to you."

"Thank you for being here, David," Fudge said, implying that they were already good friends. "Your young protege was not aware of your new duties. I am sure he appreciates your good fortune."

"Malcolm has never appreciated anything, not even his own good fortune. If you want my opinion, he is completely irresponsible and hopelessly . . . Um . . . Will he be thrown out of school by any chance?"

"There is that possibility."

"In that case please strike my last words from the record. This is a serious matter and I should not make frivolous remarks."

[_I knew it. They still want to keep me out of the States._]

"Mr. Winter," Amelia Bones asked, "Malcolm claims that the current situation is the result of an effort to prevent the exposure of the world of magic by non-magical means, and that you could supply a precedent."

David Winter snorted. "Are you referring to the fact that Malcolm attends the Hogwarts Institute for Delusional Children?"

"Institute?"

"Malcolm has brothers who are incapable of keeping anything secret. Almost immediately, the entire neighborhood where his family lived was alive with stories of witches and wizards. His mother apologized for the stories and admitted that her son, Malcolm, had suffered a mental breakdown and was now institutionalized in a mental hospital in Europe. The result was that Malcolm could return home and talk freely about anything that happened at school, and every person he talked to would smile and say, 'that's nice'."

"The old ladies would even give me cookies and tell me how I reminded them of their father's." Malcolm smiled, but no one heard him because they were all laughing too hard.

"That was wonderful," Cornelius Fudge admitted. "Are there any other precedents?"

"Most recently, Malcolm had inadvertently trapped himself with a group of muggle school children to take part in an international competition. He had accidentally made a Wizard's Oath."

[_They're laughing again._]

"It was resolved," David continued when everyone calmed down, "by the simple expedient of informing the authorities that Malcolm attended a different school."

"Pardon me," Percy Weasley said. "I remember hearing about that before I . . . I moved into my own flat. The British team won as a result. Is that correct?"

Malcolm flushed. "Well, the Chinese team had the most points but they were also disqualified, because of age violations. Two members of their team weren't old enough."

"We'll put that down as a British victory thanks to young Malcolm," Cornelius Fudge said expansively. "Was there anything else?"

David Winter smiled. "There are other minor examples of the family's talent to resolve problems without using magic. The older boy, Reese, who has no magical ability resolved an assault by magic by the expedient of throwing dirt in his opponent's eyes then grabbing his wand. As a result, several lesson plan in our Defense Against the Dark Arts courses now center on the use of non-magical techniques in combating magic. The younger brother, Dewey, when confronted by the . . . well, never mind, I think I've told you enough to get a clear picture."

"Mr. Winter," Malcolm asked. "Were you talking about the time that Dewey wet his pants?"

"Shut up, Malcolm."

"He wet his pants?" The Minister asked.

David Winter glared at Malcolm. "To tell the truth, he wasn't wearing any at the time. He actually managed to attack a dementor and cause him to retreat by the simple muggle method of refusing to be sad. It could be a family trait, because his brother Reese is immune to the effects of the dementors. Apparently Malcolm is not, because the dementor in question was attacking him and a school friend. It was when dementors were guarding Hogwarts. The two had wandered into it by mistake."

"I'm sorry to ask a miscellaneous question," Madame Bones said, "but what WAS Dewey wearing?"

"Nothing at all. It was a fixation of his at the time. Therefore his pants could not have been wet. However, I have been given it on good authority that it was Malcolm's pants that were wet."

"It was raining," Malcolm shouted, but no one heard him because they were laughing too hard.

"Congratulations, Malcolm," David Winter said as he went to leave. "They are going to keep you in school. That means I get to keep my new job." He actually smiled as he left.

Cornelius Fudge looked at Malcolm. "I think we have all of the facts. Malcolm, you may not leave this building but you do have my permission to go to the dining room to get something to eat at the Ministry's expense. Consider it as a last meal."

Malcolm left the office and closed the door behind him.

"What are you up to," David Winter demanded.

"Nothing," Malcolm explained. "Nob turned himself human. I was trying to help him fit in."

"You mean he cast an illusion?"

"No. He made himself human. We even had a doctor examine him. He passed all the tests."

"It's only an illusion, Malcolm. He is still an elf."

"He even passed the blood test."

"Impossible."

"I need to get something to eat," Malcolm said. "I'll try to explain as much as I know."

"I could use a cup of coffee," David admitted, as he followed Malcolm.

"How did you get this job?"

"My predecessor heard what you had done and resigned rather than have to deal with such an embarrassing incident after a long and distinguished career."

"And they picked you?"

"My superiors noted that I had successfully dealt with you on a number of occasions. The truth is, Malcolm, that you are an embarrassment to the American wizarding community, especially considering your family ties."

"The Malfoys? Why?"

David stopped in surprise. "You don't know? Malcolm, can you guess how many pureblood wizard families there are in the United States?" Malcolm shook his head. "None. Wizards left Europe to come to the New World for the same reason as everyone else. To start a new life. All of the pure blooded families were settled. They had no reason to emigrate. It was the Muggle-borns who came. The closest thing we have to a pureblood is the occasional windbag who brags that there have been wizards in his or her family for over two hundred years. Do you understand, Malcolm. They don't brag that their families have been wizards, but that their families have wizards."

Malcolm nodded. "And now I can brag that my grandfather was a pureblood."

"Exactly. And it gets worse. Dewey was placed in Slytherin House at your school. Before that happened, few people even knew about the houses at Hogwarts. Now every witch and wizard in the States knows."

Malcolm nodded again. Only purebloods are placed in Slytherin.

"What do I do?"

"Stay in school. Study hard. Then move to someplace that has never heard of you. Like Australia."

"They've heard of me," Malcolm said and began to explain.

"Don't. Please don't explain anything. It won't make things better. How much time do you have before you need to go back?"

"They didn't say. Minister Fudge told me to get something to eat and then return."

"Good. That means it won't be anything drastic. If they do keep you at the school you will only get detention, but you're used to that."

"I'm already on the permanent detention list. Nobody even need a reason anymore."

"And why is that," David asked without surprise.

"I walked out of my DADA class, then I walked out of my detention with the DADA teacher."

"And, if Albus explained things to me correctly, that was your excuse to come see me."

"Dumbledore told you everything?"

"He told me that you forged the letter you gave me. He was very discreet about our meeting, however. I understand he know longer enjoys the Minister's confidence."

"And the DADA Professor is the Minister's official snoop at the school."

Davis Winter fumed. "And you deliberately antagonized her? How smart are you supposed to be? You never do something like that. Someone like that is a troublemaker, and I'll wager that the only reason she isn't causing trouble for you is because Dumbledore has everyone else doing it. How could you be so stupid?"

David paused, as Malcolm did not say anything. "I know you too well, Malcolm. You're up to something and I'm going to figure it out. All of this, running out of class, adopting a house elf, deliberately antagonizing someone who could cause you great problems, it's all a smoke screen. I'm even willing to bet that you had something to do with Dewey getting into Slytherin."

Malcolm sighed. "Not really. I still haven't figured that one out yet."

"It is your style," David pointed out. "Perhaps you inspired a copycat? Are you still hungry?"

"Not really," Malcolm admitted. "Is it too early to go back in?"

"Look down the hall. You can see people coming out. They've obviously decided what to do. I'll walk you back if you like."

"Yeah. Thanks. You're not being nice, though. It's just that you want to find out what happens, first hand."

"Of course, Malcolm. But I can make it seem as though I'm being nice. People like someone who cares." David paused for effect. "Remember that the next time you try to make a friend."

David knocked, and Percy Weasley opened the door to let them in. Only the Minister and Madame Bones were still in the room. Malcolm was told to remain standing.

"You have caused a great many tongues to wag because of your previous actions, Malcolm, and this incident does not come as a surprise to many of us. We have discussed what to do about this and we came up with a temporary solution. We will be conducting a full investigation of everything you have told us. Depending upon the results, either the matter will be dropped by the Wizengamot, or you will be called in for a full hearing. That will not be for some time, however. Until then it has been decided that you should return to Hogwarts . . ." Fudge grinned. ". . . Institute to continue your education. We do have the principle of innocent until proven guilty."

Madame Bones spoke next. "This next decision was made by myself as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The pretext of muggle adoption will be permitted to continue as it does not specifically violate any of our laws. We will direct all persons involved to cooperate with muggle authorities as much as is possible without revealing ourselves to any of them." She looked sternly at Malcolm. "Any use of magic will result in severe repercussions. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Malcolm said softly.

"You may go, Malcolm," Cornelius Fudge said. "To make things easier for all of us, I have prepared a letter of explanation for the headmaster. You may deliver it yourself."

[_That's the weird thing about Minister Fudge. He likes to order people around. He wants me to deliver his letter because he can actually order me to do it._]

"I'd be happy to, Sir," Malcolm said with surprising humility.

"I'll see him out, Minister," David offered and steered Malcolm out the door and to the elevator. "Congratulations, Malcolm. You made it."

"But the investigation?"

"Bureaucratic nonsense. No investigation is ever made unless the result is known beforehand. If they were going to hang you out to dry they would have dragged you away the instant you walked back in the room. Someone will ask a few questions, and that will be it." David paused. "What they might do, at least what I would do in this situation, is hand the investigation over to your DADA Professor. That way, if you cause any more problems they can still put you away without doing any of the paperwork."

"You mean Professor Umbridge. She'll be in charge of my investigation?'

David smiled. "Is that her name? Probably yes. You could read the letter and find out."

"I'll wait until I'm outside," Malcolm said. He smiled as David realizes he was telling the truth.

"I'll come with you. I am curious to see if I'm right."

He was.

Malcolm flew back to the school and into the open window of the headmaster's office. He stopped in mid flight when he saw Professor Dumbledore sitting at his desk. Across from him were Professor McGonagall and Professor Umbridge. Malcolm landed with an extreme lack of style and handed the letter to the headmaster.

"Thank you, Malcolm. We are grateful that you decided to return after all. You were expected at least an hour ago."

"I ran into David Winter, Sir. He offered to buy me lunch. We went to a muggle restaurant."

"Then you are forgiven. We would not want to offend the new American Consul. In the meantime, the Minister saw fit to inform myself and Professor Umbridge about the results of your meeting. I am sure you have guessed who will be in charge of your investigation?"

Malcolm looked at Professor McGonagall who shook her head no.

[_He could have changed his mind._]

"Hem. Hem."

"I am sure Professor Umbridge will be completely fair in her assessments."

Dumbledore expressed mock surprise. "Malcolm, that was a completely respectful statement. I didn't know you had it within you."

"We will talk later," Professor Umbridge said. "I have already interviewed my first student, and I promised Dewey that I would return to hear everything else he wanted to tell me. He has been most informative."

Professor Umbridge left the office smiling broadly.

[_She looks like a Cheshire Dog._]

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "It seems, Malcolm, that you did not prove your point. You lost your wager."

Malcolm smiled. "The Minister acknowledged that Nob was human, and no one contradicted him. His specific words after I explained about the adoption were as follows: 'And what happens if he becomes a house elf again?'"

Dumbledore smiled. "It is a fine legal point, Malcolm. Perhaps too fine a point. And the matter is not yet closed."

"Then I haven't lost the bet. At least, not yet."

Professor McGonagall interrupted. "What is this bet you are referring to?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Malcolm wagered that he could prove that Nob was human. I believe you have met his foster brother?"

"I have, and I have seen the more recent picture of him. Did you actually accept the terms of the wager?"

"I did not. But I did agree to hear the terms of the wager. Malcolm?"

"It's simple. At least it was simple until Fudge decided to wait for a report. Now I may never actually win."

McGonagall returned Dumbledores smile and turned to Malcolm. "Tell us your terms, anyway. In view of the fact that you are still attending school here, you do deserve that much."

"Okay. What I wanted was this. To be free of automatic detentions at least every other weekend, and two nights a week. I need the nights to be able to get my homework done, And the weekends because I do need some free time."

"I think that is a reasonable request," Professor McGonagall said. "You do most of your tutoring on weekends, however. I would change it so that you have every Sunday free. Out of generosity, I will also add Hogesmeade weekends, depending your tutoring. You will need a permission slip from your parents"

"They already said no, but why are you agreeing? I didn't win the bet?"

"There is no need," Professor McGonagall told him. "Despite your stupidity with Professor Umbridge you have shown yourself to be the responsible young man. It is refreshing and should be encouraged. Was that all you wanted?"

Uh, no. There were other things. Like Professor Snape's class. He actually has me teaching the lessons. I think I should be called a teaching assistant instead of a student aide. Also, I'd like credit for what I am doing, so that it's on record that I didn't drop out of the DADA class because I was lazy or something."

"Done," Dumbledore said.

"That means that I can give detentions, as well as give and take house points?"

"Subject to review by the teaching supervisor," Dumbledore said. "Because I am the headmaster, that would be me, Malcolm. You don't have to be afraid to give points to Gryffindor or take them from Slytherin, provided they are deserved. What else did you want."

Malcolm looked up in surprise. "It's about Professor Umbridge. I know she hates me for leaving her class and getting away with it. And I know she'd like to use me as an owl when she has something nasty to say about me or the school and she wants to put it in writing."

"We will tell her to use one of the school owls."

"No, Sir. I want you to let her keep using me. That way I can read what she's saying about me."

McGonagall laughed. "Let him, Albus. I want to know what she is saying as well."

"Very well," Albus grinned. "But, again, there are conditions. You must only deliver the letters and return immediately. There are to be no side excursions or I will inform Professor Umbridge of that fact. Is that understood."

"Yes, Sir."

"Is there anything else?"

"I would ask about sending Dewey to another school but I don't think you'd agree to that." Dumbledore shook his head. "Then that's all."

Malcolm left Dumbledore's office in a strange mood. He didn't know whether to be glad, sad or mad.

[_When I even get myself feeling like this, I know I had a good day._]


	17. The Classes Continue

A/N: Like all writers, I love getting reviews. I think it's a requirement for the position, professional or amateur, that you have to have the urge to write regardless of what other people might think yet still have the need for people to tell you what they think. That ezplains why many writers have such unusual problems. Myself, for example. I woke up yesterday to find out that my inner child had run away. Now I find out that he has been put in the custody of my alter ego. I know this is going to cost me thousands of dollars in psychiatric fees.

Reviewers also like to be acknowledged. It's one thing to write a review, but it helps to know that the author is reading them. I would like to take the time out to thank all of the following people: VMorticia, Grizabella, Ashley Potter, azntgr01, mandraco, Anoron, Black Ice, Shalemni (I never got back to you after chapter three to tell you we were back to two Malcolms, that Tonks was doing a cameo, but you figured that out by now), technetium, Ilanya, GloriaLover, Miriam1, S33k3r, Thorn, Colibi, M-X, Phoenix Flight, Kelly, Myr and Looprevil.

I hope I included everyone, but I would like to give a special mention to Feronia, who came across this story then decided to read the first two in the series before reading this one, and admitted it.

  
  


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE CLASSES CONTINUE

  


"Hello, Malcolm."

"Hi, Hermione. Are you still talking to me? I thought everyone hated me this year."

"I've been busy, and yes, I am still talking to you, and I've answered your question as proof. Is that homework? It looks odd."

"It is homework. Twenty parchments of it. Look at this one. It's Dewey's.

"This is wrong, Malcolm. Most of his statements are quite accurate and you gave him a failing grade."

"That's one of the fun things about being a teacher."

Hermione glared at him. "You can't fail him because he's your brother."

"I didn't. Here's the grade list. I gave him a B-. I'm only telling him I failed him."

"You are incorrigible," Hermione said with a laugh. "Don't stay up too late."

Malcolm snorted. "I have to grade all of these, turn in the grade list to Snape, give another copy to Dumbledore, write seven inches for Professor Vector, and finish my assignment for Professor Flitwick by breakfast tomorrow."

"When do you ever sleep?"

"In Professor Binns class, of course."

*

"He did what?" Professor Snape screamed.

Professor McGonagall was not impressed. "You were the one who decided Malcolm could teach. Dumbledore merely acknowledged the fact. If you don't want an assistant, put him to washing bottles. That was why he was given to you in the first place."

"Very well, but I'll give him detention for every point he takes from Slytherin."

"I'm afraid you can't," McGonagall said with a grin. "He can only recommend any award or disciplinary action. And as Albus is the headmaster, you do not have the authority to give Him detention."

Severus shuddered at the thought of teaching the first years and kept his mouth shut.

*

It was Monday morning. Malcolm sat down at breakfast and began to eat. He looked up to see Ginny sitting across from him. "Hi."

"Hi, Malcolm. May I ask a personal question?"

"Sure."

"What did she say?"

"Who?"

"Gabrielle. You were shouting so loud that everyone wondered what it was all about."

"We were clearing up that matter about her brother. That's all. And she's going to invite me to her school for Halloween if she gets a chance."

Ginny's eyes lit up. "You're going to Beauxbatons. Can you ask her if you can bring a date?"

Malcolm snorted. "That would defeat the purpose of my going."

"How about a chaperone?"

"I'll think about it," Malcolm offered.

"What do you think about this," EJ said as he sat the Daily Prophet in front of him.

"What am I reading?"

"The headlines," EJ said. "The Minister for Magic has made Umbridge the High Inquisitor for Hogwarts."

"Oh."

"Malcolm, what's wrong with you?"

"My life has gotten worse, EJ. Do you and Ginny know what this means?"

"I should say yes," Ginny told him, "but I think I had better ask what."

"Cornelius Fudge has control of the school. He can do anything he wants, and he's letting us know it. This is the start. As soon as he thinks he can get away with it, he'll remove Dumbledore and put Umbridge in charge."

'That is a scary thought," Ginny admitted while EJ nodded. "What can we do?"

Malcolm sighed. "I can't do anything. I sold my soul already."

"You don't mean that," EJ said.

"Look, EJ, you and Ginny and a handful of others are the exceptions. Most of the Gryffindors don't like me because of my family connections to Slytherin. And the Slytherins don't like me because if I'm supposed to be so decent then why am I in Gryffindor. Everybody else has taken to ignoring me. Besides, Umbridge already has me marked down as one of the worst people in the school. See here, about what it says about the teachers. That actually includes me. My teaching career has lasted one day."

"Maybe you'll have to act normal for a while," EJ said with a smile. "Take normal classes with the rest of us for once. Learn how the other half lives."

"You mean the other 99.9," Ginny added. "Malcolm, did it ever occur to you that you might be too young to be a teacher?"

"It's only one class, and in my best subject. I'm already taking fifth year Potions. Besides, I also get to torture Dewey. At least I thought I would."

*

"Hem. Hem." Tuesday was completely ruined.

[_Here it comes._]

"Malcolm, I regret to inform you that you will not be teaching any more classes. I should add that Professor Snape was quite happy about that fact."

"He told you that?"

"I know how to read his body language. Even someone as stoic as he is can reveal his feeling through some mannerism."

[_What mannerisms? All he has is that nervous tick he gets when he's dealing with Dewey._]

"I expected it, Ma'am. It was too good to be true."

Dolores Umbridge ignored his reply. "Also you are relieved of your advanced classes. Now you can monitor my classroom as I sit and observe the other teachers in the course of their duties. And you are only the monitor. You will do in my classes what I will be doing. Sit and observe. Then you will tell me everything that happens."

"You want me to tell on everyone? Why don't you get Dewey? He's perfect for that kind of thing."

"He is already doing that for me, silly boy. Now, you will be doing that for me as well. You work for me. Everyone knows that. You even delivered the educational decree to Dumbledore that appointed me as High Inquisitor. I have already mentioned to several people how useful you are as an animagus." Umbridge managed a friendly smile that was complete menace. "You will do what I tell you, young man. You don't have to like it. You only have to do it."

"Yes, Ma'am," Malcolm said weakly.

"Good for you. You are a smart boy after all. But I will tell you now that I am fair. You will have to give up some of your special privileges and behave like a normal student, but there will be benefits as well. If you are diligent, you will learn what they are. Now get out of my office, you horrid boy."

*

The Weasley twins were in a foul mood that Wednesday as they walked to their next class.

"Oy, Malcolm," Fred called out as he walked into DADA class. "Are you teaching this class? Did they give Umbridge the boot?"

Malcolm frowned. "I'm her toady. I have to sit here and watch everybody to make sure they do their reading assignments."

"Wicked." Fred looked at George and they both laughed. "Is she coming back to check on us?"

"I don't think so, but . . . what did you have in mind?" The glimmer of a smile formed on Malcolm's lips.

"Nothing for today. How long will you be doing this?"

"Through the end of next week. Umbridge is sitting in on other classes. To grade the teachers. She worked out the schedule so that I can monitor a few classes. Including my old class. Of course I have no free time during the week, now."

"Of course you do," George insisted. "Within limits. All we need is some way of keeping track of her."

"You mean a warning system?" Malcolm smiled. "I can take care of that."

Almost everyone in the class was listening at this point when Fred asked, "How?"

Malcolm put his fingers to his lips to indicate quiet. He then opened his robes to reveal Mrs. Norris curled up on his lap, sound asleep. Occasionally a paw would swat at an imaginary mouse on Malcolm's jeans. He closed his robes over the sleeping cat. "She does that every chance she gets."

Then George had to ask. "Why?"

"I guess it's my animal magnetism."

"Great." Fred clapped his hands. "Who wants to have a party?"

*

Draco Malfoy strolled into class to see a familiar figure sitting behind the desk.

"Enjoying yourself, cousin," he said with a grin.

"Where's everyone else?"

"Anywhere else. Since Umbridge isn't going to be here there isn't any reason to come to class. Is there?"

"And you came because?"

"Dewey told me that the giant Squid said I needed to spend more time with you. What is going on in your brother's mind? Does he truly believe he is in communication with the monster in the lake?"

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "Think about it, Draco. His best friend in school is Peeves. What do you expect from Dewey?"

"I did expect him to be in Gryffindor. That would have been fun, watching Potter deal with him. I know Snape is also upset. He has him for Double Potions today."

"Hi, Malcolm. Hi, Draco." a familiar young boy said as he walked by the classroom.

"Hi, Dewey," both boys said.

"I thought he was in Potions," Draco said.

"He is. That's little Dewey. He came by for a visit."

Draco nodded his head. "Would you like to go out to the pitch? There's no reason for you to be here."

"Sure, let me wake up Mrs. Norris first."

*

Severus Snape's mouth began to twitch. "What is it, Dewey?"

"I need to go, Professor."

"You should have thought of that earlier."

"No, Sir. I mean I have to leave. I just remembered I'm at school today. I should be paying you a visit any minute now."

"Thank you for the warning." The door to the classroom opened. "Dewey, you are not allowed in here. I am teaching a class. Go play elsewhere."

"I just wanted to watch. I'm bored. Can I just stay for a while."

"There is no room."

"I could sit next to that pointy-headed kid. There's enough room there."

Dewey cringed in his seat as he realized he was talking about himself.

Severus Snape smiled. "If you insist . . ." Seated Dewey cringed some more, afraid to move. Standing Dewey grinned happily and began to walk forward.

"I am surprised," Snape said as both Deweys paused. "I thought you would rather see the poisonous crups that Professor Grubbly-Plank is showing her class."

"Wow. Will she let me pet one?"

"I'm sure she will."

Dewey ran out happily.

"Dewey, since you left it open, you may take your pointy head out of that chair and close the door." Dewey reluctantly got out of his seat as another student raised her hand.

"Professor, what are crups?"

"It doesn't matter," Dewey answered. "He lied to me."

"And now you know why," Snape said with authority. "In the future, young man, I want to be informed earlier of any visits. I will not have you disrupt my class again. You may stay after class and help me wash bottles while I explain it to you."

"You're giving me detention?" Dewey was indignant. He knew he deserved it but he was indignant anyway.

"I would never give detention to anyone from my own house or to any of you wonderful first years. I am merely telling you to do me a favor and help me clean up after class." He frowned at Dewey. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Dewey said weakly.

*

"Malcolm," Hermione asked, "why are you sitting around in the common room. Don't you have class today?"

"I was excused from all of my classes so that I can monitor Professor Umbridge's DADA classes. Today's the last day."

"You didn't monitor our class."

"I didn't have to. I only had to monitor four different classes. After the first day we worked out a routine. I gave everybody a copy of Umbridge's schedule so they can stay out of her way."

"Excuse me, Malcolm. Do you mean to tell me that . . . no one . . . is going to her classes."

"Like Draco said, she's not going to be there so what's the point."

"Isn't anyone suspicious? Filch? What about Mrs. Norris?"

Malcolm smiled. "And what about Mrs. Norris." He reached under the table and pulled the cat into his lap. "And what about you, you pretty thing. Are you suspicious?"

Mrs. Norris rolled on her back as Malcolm started scratching her tummy. She began purring so loudly that Hermione could easily hear her.

"Never mind," Hermione said as she walked away.

*

"You conducted yourself with amazing diligence," Professor Umbridge said. "I understand several students objected to your attitude."

[_That would be Fred and George. They promised to complain about me if I let them use the DADA classroom to test their products. The first years had a free period the same time as Draco's class, and since no one was going to be in the room . . ._]

"I have made note of their names for future reference. You have earned yourself a step toward redeeming yourself in my eyes."

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge."

"I have another task for you. This is one you will probably enjoy. There are several disruptive influences in your house and I need to know if they are planning anything. You know who I am talking about. The Potter Boy and his friend Hermione Granger, and the Weasley twins. Please make it a point to be friendly with them, even eat your meals with them, and let me know what they talk about."

"I can't do that," Malcolm pleaded. "They hate me and they'd be suspicious of me if I even sat near them. They wouldn't say anything if I'm around. Besides, they all know I'm your errand boy, anyway."

"You're a smart boy, Malcolm. You figure it out."

[_I shouldn't tell her this, but I have to get out of the mess I'm in._]

"Have Dewey do it," Malcolm said, failing to hide his anger. "He does know how to lip read, although he doesn't want anybody to know. He even made me promise never to tell when he realized I knew about it. If he can see them and they're talking he'll know what they're saying."

Professor Umbridge smiled in triumph. Dewey would be more than happy to do anything she asked. Add to that the fact that Malcolm revealed this useful piece of information. It proved that she had successfully subdued the wayward boy. When the time came, she would show her approval of him to everyone.

"Thank you, Malcolm," Professor Umbridge said as she dismissed the boy. As Malcolm opened the door to her office, she noticed a pair of students walking by. She decided to increase her control on the boy. She said loudly enough for everyone in the corridor to hear, "Malcolm, the information you gave me will be very useful."

Malcolm didn't react at all but simply nodded and closed the door behind him. "Hi."

The two students, Hufflepuffs, glared at him and kept walking.

*

"Good Morning, Malcolm," Professor McGonagall said as he entered the Great Hall.

"I didn't do it."

[_My weekend is beginning badly._]

"To be honest, you did, Malcolm. You even admitted it. And now you have to reap the rewards. Please see me after breakfast for a change of clothes."

"A what?"

McGonagall smiled. "You can't wear your robes when you visit your brother. You would stand out. And the Interviewer would be suspicious."

"The who?"

"The person who is going to interview you concerning the adoption. Don't you remember? You told the Minister for Magic all about it and, I am still not sure how, managed to obtain his agreement."

"You could have told me earlier," Malcolm said crossly.

"So that you could tell the entire school? I don't think that would have been wise. You do remember the phrase I taught you?"

"Yes Ma'am," Malcolm said sullenly. "Don't tell anyone about this or you will spend the rest of your school days as a tea kettle."

"Good for you. Now go and eat a healthy breakfast."

Malcolm walked to an empty bench and sat down. Dennis immediately walked up to him.

"Malcolm, do you know Euan? He's a first year."

"We met on the train. Hi, Euan."

"Hi."

"Euan wanted to know how you could be so clever at magic and so poor at personal relations but I told him it was easy for you. I mentioned how you have a natural talent for being misunderstood."

"Gee, thanks, Dennis."

"He doesn't sound happy, Dennis."

"That's because something else is going on in his life to make him completely miserable. Normally we would assume his reaction is about us but it is actually about the last thing that happened to him. It took me several days to figure this out."

"He is an odd egg."

[_I like this. I'm being psychoanalyzed by a kid who jumped into the lake just to see how the Giant Squid would react. That's what I call a confidence builder._]

"Euan, did Dennis ever tell you about the time he jumped out of the boat when he was a first year?"

"It was great," Dennis added with enthusiasm. "Malcolm told me about the lake and I had to see what would happen. He was right. The Giant Squid picked me up and tossed me back into the boat."

"Weren't you worried about getting wet?"

"We were already drenched from the rain. It didn't matter."

"That sounded like fun. And what is Malcolm upset about?"

Dennis and Euan looked at Malcolm expectantly.

"I have to visit my brother," Malcolm answered. "Would you like to join me?"

"Sure," Euan said.

"Wait, Euan. Malcolm, which brother?"

"Reese."

"Have a nice day," Dennis said and they both walked quickly away.

"Have fun at the interview," Dewey said from behind him a minute later.

"Don't you have to go?"

"They're going to interview me after school on Wednesday. I'm going to tell them how much I love the idea of having a younger brother and they'll believe me."

"Oh."

"Malcolm, why did you tell Professor Umbridge that I could read lips."

"Because she wanted me to squeal on people. I figured if I told her that then she would have you do her dirty work for her. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Surprisingly, no. It sounds like I'm going to have a lot of fun. I will get you back for this anyway. There is a principle involved."

"No problem, Dewey. I'll see you when I get back."

"Malcolm? Does my head look pointy to you?"


	18. The Interviews

A/N: I wanted to assure Black Ice that the question of Malcolm's classes will be answered more fully in future chapters.

  


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE INTERVIEWS

  


"Francis, It's a letter from your brother. I made the mistake of reading it."

"Piama, you're my wife. You can read my mail. I have no problem with that. What did Malcolm have to say?"

"Malcolm? This was from Reese. And you don't want to know. He sounds so . . ."

"What does it say?"

Piama shrugged her shoulders. "He's trapped at a boarding school and he's having a horrible time. He wants you to help him break out on Friday after they have lunch. Francis, your parents are doing to your brother exactly what they did to you. Do you know what this means?"

"Sure I do," Francis explained. "It means that Reese's school serves pizza for lunch on Fridays."

*

"What is this?" Malcolm asked as Professor McGonagall handed him a bundle of clothes.

"It's your school uniform. Now hurry to your dorm and change. I will meet you in the common room in one hour."

"Hi, Malcolm," Dennis said as their paths crossed. "Are you going to visit your brother now."

"I have to change first. McGonagall says my regular clothes will stand out."

"Where is your brother? Is he in the hospital?"

"He's in a boarding school not to far from here. Why would you think he was in the hospital?"

"You kept going there last year. I assumed you were visiting someone."

"Don't you read the papers. I was going down there to do charity work. And don't laugh like that."

"So where's the school?" Dennis said cheerfully.

"I don't know exactly. It's somewhere over the river and through the woods."

"Oh, near Grandmother's house."

Malcolm paused. "Your Grandmother lives near the school?"

"No, she lives in Newcastle. Haven't you ever heard that song? Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house we go."

"No."

"But it's a Christmas song. You must have heard it?"

[_It's education time._]

"Dennis, the only Christmas song I've ever heard is Jingle Bells. You know, the one that goes Jingle Bells, Batman smells . . ."

"Robin laid an egg," Dennis concluded. "Dewey taught me that. Is that why he was surprised when I told him about the real song?"

"Exactly. In my family we know that all of these songs exist except that we don't ever hear them, except as Muzak in the malls."

"I know what to give you for Christmas. You'll love it."

"I can't wait, Dennis."

*

"You look marvelous, Malcolm," Ginny said. "Fred and George are making themselves laugh."

"Yeah, right," Malcolm said as he adjusted the tie. "I'm not used to dressing up like this. I feel like I'm going to meet my relatives."

"You're downright smashing," Dennis said with a grin, "and your timing is good."

"What do you mean?"

Dennis wiped away an imaginary tear, and said, a little too loud, "I'm going to miss you, Malcolm. I'm sorry you have to go."

[_What?_]

Ginny looked confused, then smiled as she looked past Malcolm's shoulder at the entranceway. She put a consoling hand on Dennis's shoulder. "It had to happen, Dennis. Umbridge had too many things against Malcolm to let him stay."

"What's this? Malcolm's leaving?" Ron asked from behind.

"It's Umbridge," Dennis said tearfully, then turned his head to hide his smile.

"That's great, I mean, bad luck that. Have fun at your new school."

Malcolm turned around to find Ron laughing with glee when he spotted the school patch.

"Tell Harry I'll let him know how the new school is."

"Why would he care?" Ron asked, then his face dropped. "You don't mean that? She wouldn't throw Harry out. It's only been three weeks. It's not like he's . . . you."

"I hope you're right," Malcolm said and walked out of the common room.

"There you are," McGonagall said to Malcolm as the portrait swung open. "Hurry up. You should have been out of here already."

Ron stood in the middle of the common room with mixed emotions. The best friend of his worst enemy had been thrown out of school. But that opened the door to the possibility that his own best friend might be thrown out as well. Dennis was watching Ron with the sincere hope that he was present when Ron realized that Malcolm was coming back.

*

Enid looked at her notes and then looked up when the young man walked in. "You must be Reese. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Enid and I'm here to interview you concerning the adoption of your foster brother, Nob. Is that his real name?"

"No, that's only what we call him. He answers to it so there isn't any problem."

Enid smiled at the supposed joke. "What is his real name?"

"I don't know," Reese said honestly. "Nobody told me. Of course they don't ever tell me anything. They didn't even tell me I was going to school."

"They didn't?" Enid asked in surprise.

"No they didn't. Mom told me to get dressed up so we could see Malcolm off. Then Malcolm tricked me into getting on the train while he and Mom waved goodbye from the platform."

Enid glanced at her notes and then at Reese. "Am I to understand that Malcolm does not go to this school."

No way. I mean, we gave him a jacket so he could say he does, but I don't even think he knows where this place is. I'm not even sure where this place is. He's a wizard and he goes to Hogwarts."

Enid coughed. "What do you mean he's a wizard? Are you referring to the fact that he's very smart?"

"Well, Mom says not to tell people about him but you're supposed to know, so I'll tell you what I had to tell the kids at school. Malcolm's a frootloop and he goes to The Hogwarts Institute For Juvenile Dementia. It's not to far from here, but they don't really encourage visitors."

Enid began writing heavily in her notebook. "I shouldn't ask but was this common knowledge to the . . ."

"Do you mean did everyone know. Yeah. You don't keep something like that a secret. It's not like it's something to be ashamed off. And the fun part is watching everyone go along with what Malcolm says as though they believe it as well."

"And Malcolm thinks he's a wizard?"

Reese clarified this point. "A wizard in training. But he is functional most of the time. He can feed himself and he even has friends among his fellow patients."

"How nice," Enid said without expression. "How long has Malcolm been at the Institute?"

"It was two years ago this month that they locked him away, but they do let him out for holidays."

*

"Hello, Malcolm," Anthony said in greeting. He held the door open for Malcolm to enter the administration building. "I hope you had a pleasant flight."

"Yeah," Malcolm told him as he handed over an envelope. "Euan made it easy by having me deliver a letter to you. They wanted to let you know how things are going."

"You can tell them that things are better than expected. Reese leaves me alone almost all of the time."

"That's good to hear." he paused as Anthony showed him the Headmaster's Office. "Hector Filch. Is he really a twin?"

"In appearance, and probably in attitude. Before we enter, I should tell you that Filch has confided in me about what is going on. If it weren't for the fact that I've met most of your family, I would say it was a wonderful thing you are doing. As it is, all you have done is ruin my first free Saturday."

Anthony smiled and opened the door and Malcolm walked in. He could hear the interview with Reese being conducted in the next room. It didn't sound good. Hector Filch was sitting against the wall near the door, listening to the conversation. His face was completely pale. When he spotted Malcolm, he stood up and softly walked over to him.

"He's telling her everything about Hogwarts, and that it's your fantasy, and that the school is really an asylum." Filch whispered.

Anthony smirked. "Do you mean as in he Hogwarts Institute of Psychopathic Adolescents?"

"Exactly. And I need both of you to watch them while I contact Dumbledore. Do whatever you can to make sure both of them stay here. We will need him to take care of this at once."

[_This is a perfect example of how people react when they don't know who they're dealing with._]

"You're overreacting, Mr. Filch. We're talking about Reese. When Reese comes out, tell him this." Malcolm whispered what to say and then walked to the door and knocked. He paused then opened the door and stuck his head in.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were done talking to Reese. Am I early?"

"Are you Malcolm," Enid asked in the polite tone.

[_Mister Rogers would be proud of the way she said that._]

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Come in. Reese and I were finishing our interview. He was very informative."

[_Can you say informative. I knew you could._]

As Reese left, Enid asked Malcolm to sit down.

"Look, lady. I heard the last part of your conversation and I should tell you that Reese is an idiot."

"Now, Malcolm . . ."

"Seriously. Call him back and ask him where he's going."

Enid smiled politely and walked to the door. She opened it to see Reese with the headmaster and another boy. "Excuse me, I wanted to ask Reese where he is going from here."

Reese smiled. "I just going up to the third floor to ask the shepherd if the cows have enough hay."

Enid smiled blankly, mumbled something, and closed the door.

"I told the Headmaster to ask him, and I asked Anthony to be a witness. I knew Reese would do something stupid. He should write a book: Lies My Brother Told Me."

Enid shook here head as she sat down. "He can't possibly be that thick headed."

"I almost tricked him into legally changing his name to Wally, but my mom found out about it."

Enid fell out of the chair because she was laughing too hard.

*

"Thank you for the tea, Headmaster," Enid said appreciatively.

"You took a bad fall, Enid. And call me Hector."

"Thank you . . . Hector, and the only thing I hurt was my pride. It should have been obvious from the beginning that what I was hearing wasn't true, but it was so fantastic."

Malcolm smiled. "I like to be thorough when I lie to people, and Reese is very gullible."

There was a knock on the door and Reese stuck his head in. "Um, there isn't a third floor. I checked both staircases."

"That's quite all right, Reese," Filch said calmly. "They probably moved it to another building. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." Reese left and Anthony rose to close the door behind him.

"I told you," Malcolm said with a grin.

Enid nodded "You said you were thorough in your lies? Give me an example."

"How about Quidditch?"

"Reese mentioned that. It's supposed to be a game with broomsticks?"

"It's a wonderful game," Hector Filch said happily, then caught himself. "Er, Malcolm, why don't you describe it for her so she knows what we're talking about."

[_And I'm supposed to be careful._]

"It's easy to play," Malcolm said with a grin. "It involves seven players each on two teams. There are three hoops at varying heights for scoring, and there are four balls. Of course, everyone rides a broomstick."

Enid was laughing. "It sounds fantastic. It doesn't even sound believable."

"The best part is," Malcolm continued, "I can go into details about the various position on the team and the purposes of the different balls. I can even describe different strategies."

"The detail this boy can go into is marvelous," Hector told Enid. "If it was possible for me to fly a broomstick I would organize a school team."

Enid smiled at Hector's enthusiasm. "Does Malcolm spend all of his time in such fantasy adventures."

Anthony chose to put in his own thoughts. "I have noticed Malcolm look at an impossible situation and instantly see a solution. He spent as much time thinking about Quidditch as I did thinking about what to wear this morning. It's one of the advantages of being a genius."

Enid gave Malcolm a warm smile. "I suppose there is no need to ask what your grades are, but . . ." She looked at Hector and Anthony. "I should conduct the rest of the interview in private."

When they were alone, Enid asked, "how do you feel about Nob?"

"It's hard to describe. Sometimes I hate him, sometimes I'm glad he's around and other times I just put up with him." Malcolm laughed softly. "I feel the same way about Reese, too. I guess I feel that Nob is already part of the family, and I'm not just saying that because of you. I don't think anything will change because of this adoption thing."

"He will legally be your brother."

"But nothing will change at home. As long as Nob's there it doesn't matter why. Just as long as he stays."

"That was a noble thought, Malcolm. Your mother would be proud to hear you talk like that."

Malcolm snorted. "If Mom was here my answers would be 'How was school?', 'Fine', 'Do you like Nob?', 'He's okay'."

"May I ask you a serious question, Malcolm. When I talked to your mother, she seemed surprised about the adoption, as though she had forgotten about it."

"That's Dad's fault. When we moved, because of things, Mom thought the adoption fell through. We did move to a different country, after all.. Dad made me promise not to tell Mom. I think he wanted to surprise her."

Enid smiled at the thoughts of such a loving family. "What is your family really like? Reese is too comical to be an idiot all the time."

"The truth? Okay. Reese has a brain. It's in perfect shape. It's never been used. My brother Dewey lives in a fantasy world where everything revolves around him. My Mom is a control freak who drove my oldest brother, Francis, to the opposite side of another continent. And my Dad is a hopeless romantic who never pays attention. If you ask him what school I go to, he'll get it wrong. And he's even been there, uh, there as in here. And Nob is just some stupid kid who thinks all of us are wonderful." Malcolm took a deep breath. "Although he is beginning to have doubts about Reese."

*

"Thank you, Malcolm for spending the time talking to me. I hope it wasn't too boring."

"It was interesting, and I would say that I enjoyed it, but the truth is I was forced to waste my first free Saturday."

Enid and Malcolm exchanged smiles as they stood up. Malcolm acted the gentleman and opened the door. Enid walked out of the office to find Headmaster Filch at the secretary's desk.

"Mr. Filch, Hector. Were you waiting out here the entire time."

"Couldn't risk you being disturbed. Wouldn't be proper. Besides, I thought you might be hungry."

"Why thank you, I am. What is your cafeteria serving?"

"Foul tasting rubbish good enough for noisy children. I was thinking, if you needed to talk to me about the boys and their academics, there is a wonderful small restaurant . . ."

"Hector, are you asking me on a date?"

"It is for purely academic purposes. But if you want to think of it as a date I will not object."

"I'd love to."

"That sounds wonderful," Malcolm said.

"The cafeteria is straight ahead and to your left, Malcolm. You should find it with no problem."

"Yes, Sir." Malcolm replied but they were already walking away.

Shrugging his shoulders, Malcolm followed his nose and quickly found the cafeteria. He took a whiff and decided he wasn't that hungry.

"Malcolm, free at last?" Anthony said from behind him.

"Yeah, I was just deciding what to do. The cafeteria doesn't look too promising."

"I know. I think it's mandatory. Yours is the only school where I've ever enjoyed eating the food. There's a shop in town with old fashioned fish and chips. Care to give it a go?"

"I don't have the right money."

"You can owe me," Anthony said nonchalantly. "I like the idea of a wizard owing me a favor. Or at least a meal."

"You're on," Malcolm said.

"I'm curious, Malcolm. Is Quidditch a real sport?"

"Yeah, I even played in a game at school. I caught the snitch and we won."

"The snitch? Is that one of the four balls you mentioned?"

"Yeah, the other three are . . .

*

[_That was fun. I guess it's time to go back._]

"Malcolm," Reese called out.

"What?" Malcolm asked in an annoyed tone.

"I figured it out," Reese said as his fist connected. "That wasn't funny." He stormed away, still angry.

[_I think I'll visit the school nurse instead._]

*

Hermione looked over at a bleary eyed Malcolm as the boy sat down at the Gryffindor table. "Glen Levitt Academy?"

"Yeah, I got kicked out. It's my new school. It's the same one Reese goes to."

"When did you get kicked out?"

"Yesterday."

Ron scowled at Malcolm.

"Then why are you back."

"To eat breakfast. The food there is terrible."

"You . . . you can't do that. You were expelled. You have to stay expelled."

Professor McGonagall stopped as she walked by the table. "Mr. Weasley, What are you talking about? No one has been expelled. And Malcolm, why are you still wearing that blazer. It is only for when you visit your brother. Change back into your robes at once. You can finish breakfast later."

Malcolm sadly walked away from his breakfast plate as Ron stared mournfully at his corn flakes. "That's not fair. I can see Dennis lying to me. I can see Malcolm lying to anyone. But why would Ginny lie to me? She's my sister."

Hermione mused briefly, "I believe your exact words to Neville were 'you are lucky you are only friends with my sister.' I think Ginny was showing her appreciation for your concern."

"I didn't mean it that way," Ron pleaded.

"She just wanted to make you happy."

*

"Did you have fun?" Dewey asked as Malcolm walked out of the Great Hall.

"You told Reese to say those things."

"It was easy," Dewey said with a smile. "I told Reese that one of us has to go in order for Nob to stay and it was down to him or the nutcase."

"You forgot one thing," Malcolm said as he explained the situation to Dewey.

"OW," Dewey said in reply.


	19. The Interviews: Part Two

CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE INTERVIEWS, PART TWO

  


"You are being a most annoying student this year, Malcolm."

"I can't help it, Professor Dumbledore. I'm trying to get things organized in my life and then I get all these idiots trying to tell me what to do."

"And that is why I never try to tell you what to do," Dumbledore said with a thin smile. "I am smart enough to know it will do no good."

*

Enid knocked on the door of the address she was given. After a second knock, the door opened.

"What do you want?" Lois demanded. "Are you that adoption lady. You're two days late."

Enid apologized. "I forwarded a message. There were unforseen circumstances and I was detained in Scotland."

"What's his name?"

"I beg your pardon."

"I was just asking. Most of the times, unforseen circumstances have a man's name. I've had a few of them myself."

Enid tried to look professional and failed. "Fine. His name was Hector. I had a bad fall and he came to my rescue, and we began talking, and I don't know why I should tell you any of this. I'm supposed to be asking you about your life."

Lois smiled. "Fine. My unfortunate circumstance is Hal. That's why I never made it to the Senior Prom. That's also the reason I have four kids, five if you have your way. Come on in, I'll get you a drink."

Enid blushed as she walked in. "I don't drink alcohol."

"I don't have any. Your choices are orange juice, coffee, milk and water." Lois looked in the refrigerator. "Forget about the milk. They put the empty carton back in the fridge and left the full carton on the stove. I'm out of orange juice as well. I'm down to water and coffee."

"Coffee will be fine."

Lois poured two cups of coffee and offered Enid a seat at the kitchen table. "Go ahead. Ask your questions."

"Are you always this brusque?"

"I have to be. I only have two kids running around the house now, and it's still as bad as when I had four. I don't have time to chit chat."

Enid nodded. "I was talking to Malcolm about the adoption procedures and he told me that your husband handled the paperwork so that he could surprise you. It seems unusual."

"Hal? Hal couldn't handle a subscription form. It may have been his idea to surprise me, but Malcolm did all of the paperwork. If you have any questions about the forms you have to ask him."

"He didn't mention that."

"I'm not surprised. He never takes responsibility for anything."

Enid nodded again. "Are you looking forward to adopting Nob?"

Lois looked up in surprise. "No, I'm not. I'm looking forward to being done with all this bureaucratic red tape. This is Nob's home regardless of whether he is my son, the neighbors kid or somebody else altogether. All I want is to get on with my life. It's hard enough without having to make time out for stupid interviews, then the reviews, then the hearings, until somebody decides to say okay."

Enid smiled for the first time. "You'll be happy to know that I the one who usually does the final reviews of adoption cases. Because of your situation, we've managed to bypass much of the 'red tape'. Baring unforseen circumstances, we are only going through a formality."

"Oh, thank you," Lois said carefully. She would talk to Malcolm later.

*

Enid phrased her question carefully to ten year old Dewey. "How do you feel, inside, about adopting Nob?"

Dewey thought back to all the ruined birthday parties, all of the fights, the lies his brothers told him and the indignities he had suffered.

"I'm looking forward to it. I'll finally have a little brother I can share things with. I think it'll be fun."

Enid was happy to receive such a healthy answer to her question.

*

"How do you feel about adoption. I was told that this was your idea."

Hal looked confused. "Well, I wasn't really thinking about adoption. Not that I have any objection to it. But I was reading somewhere that you pay people to foster children and I was wondering if we could do that."

Enid gave him a strange look. "Are you referring to supplemental income? But that is only for professionals who engage in short term fosterage. In your case fosterage is long term and a predecessor to adoption. The only way I could pay you for Nob is if you agreed to give him up."

Hal shrugged his shoulders. "I guess we'll go ahead and adopt him, then. I was just hoping for some extra money. It's not cheap raising kids these days. Do you realize how much they eat? They're like scavengers."

"I'm sure many parents have money concerns."

"Many parents? Do you know what it's like. I have six kids expecting presents for Christmas and if I shortchange one of them it's on my head. I know Francis is on his own, but he'll still expect something."

Enid did some quick math. "You said six? I know about Francis, Reese, Malcolm, Dewey and Nob. That makes five?"

"Yes, five. That's one less than six. There's also Dewey."

"I've already mentioned Dewey."

"There's the problem. I counted him twice."

"Um, Yes," Enid said, unsure of where the conversation was going. "And you have no objections to adoption?"

"None at all," Hal said confidently. "I want my wife to be happy. I'll do anything for Lois."

"And for Nob," Enid reminded him.

"Why Nob? He's already happy. He has brothers to play with. He can play in the neighbor's yard with their kids. He even goes to school. Well, he's not to happy about school but that's your fault. You say he has to go, and I can't change that. And it's the only time Lois can have a break."

"School can be difficult," Enid admitted.

*

Miss Pembroke stared at Enid as though she was crazy. "They're not normal. You do understand that. None of them are. And that boy, Nob, is just like them. I asked him what he wanted to do when he grew up. He said he wanted to curse at people. Then, at the very first arithmetic lesson I asked who knew the answer to one plus one. He told me ten. Do you believe that. I've had a few clever children say eleven but never ten. I have never been given an answer that wrong, and he actually looked surprised when I told him so."

"I'm sure he thought he had a good reason."

"That isn't the worst of it. Look at this picture."

Miss Pembroke showed a simple drawing of a man, a stick figure, with a crown and sword, and several stick figures standing around him. The ground rose and a few other stick figures were standing near the top of a hill with many more behind the hill.

"What is this?"

Miss Pembroke pointed at the stick figure with the crown. "I told Nob, and everyone else, to draw a rainbow."

*

Hector Filch was at odds with himself. He had the student file for Reese on his desk all week. He had memorized the phone number the very first day, and he knew she was in the vicinity, but he did not call. He was always afraid that she wouldn't be there, or that she would. And he did not know what to say. He reached for the phone for the tenth time that hour.

*

"There are complication," Enid explained to Lois. She told Lois of the interview with the teacher and showed her the picture that Nob drew.

"What does this mean?" Lois asked.

"I don't know. There seems to be a pattern in the way Nob is acting, but I can't make it out. I will have to put the adoption on hold until this issue is resolved."

Lois was trying to think of what to say when the phone rang. She answered and looked at Enid in surprise. "It's for you."

*

"What?" Malcolm screamed. "She wants to interview me again? Why?"

"Stiff upper lip, Malcolm," Dennis teased. "Show that English spirit. Take the bulldog approach."

[_You should know, over the holidays Dennis went to the video rental and watched every fifties movie made in America that was supposed to take place in England. Today he decided to drive everyone up the wall by using all the new phrases he's learned._]

"Be the Jolly Fellow, Malcolm."

[_And he's been enjoying it._]

"Dennis, if you don't stop it, I swear I will tear out your tongue."

Professor McGonagall frowned. "I think we have heard enough from both of you. It seems, Malcolm, that there is a problem with the forms and that you were the one who filled them out."

"Fine. When do I go?"

"I was told Saturday, before lunch. And you have to take at least three people with you."

"But that's tomorrow. Why?"

"Ask not why. Do it for love of the Queen."

"DENNIS!"

"That's one," McGonagall said. "Pick two more volunteers."

Malcolm looked around as everyone quickly left the common room.

"Why am I picking people to go with me?"

"It seems the lady who is coming to interview you would like to interview some of your friends as well. Friends who have met your family."

"Then Draco should come."

"Dumbledore has said no. Anyone who goes with you must be muggle born, so that they will be familiar with the muggle world."

Malcolm frowned. "That narrows the field quite a bit. I don't have that many friends. I could ask EJ, and Hermione, but that's about it."

Dennis cleared his throat. "EJ can't make it. I saw him in the hallway between classes and he told me there was a small accident in potions class. It will wear off on it's own in a couple of days. He's quite blue."

"What happened to him?" McGonagall asked.

"I told you. He's Blue. I don't know what wizards call it but muggles call it robins egg blue. I know because it's the color of my bedroom at home."

"That leaves Hermione," Malcolm said. "No one else will even talk to me."

Everyone turned as someone walked into the common room. Professor McGonagall smiled.

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Potter. Are you busy tomorrow?"

"I have Quidditch practice, Professor."

"Yes, but you will be done by mid-morning?"

"I will," Harry said carefully. "May I ask why?"

"Professor," Malcolm interrupted. "Potter and I aren't exactly friends. We tolerate each other and that's about it."

"Nonsense. You are both in Gryffindor. That should be enough. Mr. Potter, do you truly object to Malcolm being in Gryffindor?"

"Well . . . No?"

"He objects to my brother and my cousin being in Slytherin."

"I didn't say that," Harry protested.

"Why couldn't you have been put there as well," Malcolm quoted.

McGonagall arched an eyebrow. "Did you say that, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "I was coming back from detention with Umbridge. I wasn't in the best of humor. It was a harsh judgement, and unfair."

"Then you will not object to doing him a favor."

"I suppose not." Harry's expression showed that he would love to object.

"Then it is settled. Tomorrow, after Quidditch practice you, Dennis and Miss Granger will accompany Malcolm to his brother's school to be interviewed. You will describe Malcolm as a wonderful person and you will describe his family that way as well."

"Won't they realize I'm lying?"

McGonagall frowned. "Mister Potter."

"Potter's right," Malcolm told the Professor. "It would be better if he just told the truth."

"We'll have a ripping good time," Dennis said as Malcolm lunged at him."

*

"This is stupid," Harry said as he adjusted his tie.

"Tell me about it," Malcolm frowned. "It was supposed to be over. I don't know why she came back."

[_Unless Nob did something._]

"What is it," Hermione asked when Malcolm stopped.

"I think I know what happened and it isn't going to be good. I think she found out about magic and wants to meet friends of mine to confirm it."

"Who is she? Maybe you should tell us what is going on."

"I promised McGonagall."

"Good, that means she knows you're going to tell us anyway."

"Hermione, remember last year when I got mad and asked if you wanted us to adopt Nob?"

[_I like the way her mouth fell open._]

"But he's . . ."

"He's still like he was in the picture I showed you."

Harry started laughing. "This is all so that your family can adopt a house elf?"

"Yeah."

"A tad cheeky, don't you think," Dennis added, then opened the door to the Headmaster's office before Malcolm could react."

"Oh, hi Headmaster Filch," Malcolm said cheerfully.

"That isn't . . ." Harry asked.

"Twin brother," Hermione whispered back.

"Here they are, Enid," Filch said. "As I promised."

[_Filch arranged this?_]

Malcolm cleared his throat. "I was told you had a question about the forms?"

"Hector took care of that."

[_Hector? That clears thing up._]

"Oh. Anyway, these are some friends of mine."

"It's nice to meet you," Enid said politely.

"Then you don't really need to see us?" Harry asked.

"There is one problem I do need to resolve before I can continue with the adoption procedures."

[_I knew it._]

"Malcolm, Nob was asked by his teacher to draw a rainbow. He drew this instead. Everyone tells me that the two of you have a close bond. I was hoping you could explain it."

Malcolm looked at the drawing, and shook his head. "Harry?"

Harry laughed. "None of this makes sense to me. That drawing seems to fit in with what a brother of yours would do."

"It's good for someone his age," Dennis offered, "but it doesn't look anything like a rainbow."

"Hermione?"

"I like the little details," Hermione said. "It's obvious that Nob looked at that book on Heraldry I sent Dewey for his birthday." She looked pointedly at Malcolm. "Before I found out I had to buy him a second present."

Enid looked up. "Heraldry?"

"It's not very well done but see this group here, around the king. That's the insignia for the House of York." Hermione smiled. "It is the House of York. And the king would have to be Richard III."

Enid was not the only one to look at Hermione in surprise. "How did you know?"

"It's all here," Hermione said excitedly. "This small group at the top of the hill has a banner from the House of Lancaster, and the soldiers hidden behind the hill have the standard for the Royal house of Tudor. Nob did draw a rainbow."

"I see," Enid said, but she did not.

"It's a crudely drawn portrait of Bosworth's Field," Hermione continued. "It shows the king going into battle against his enemy, but not being aware that he was vastly outnumbered. It would be a useless battle."

[_Huh?_].

Hermione looked smugly at everyone else. "Don't you see. Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain."

[_Hey. Nob drew a mnemonic picture._]

Filch grinned. "That was very clever. But, isn't Nob in his first year of school?"

"Yes," Hermione acknowledged. She turned to Enid. "You mentioned that Nob and Malcolm have a special bond. Didn't you ever wonder why?"

Enid looked a Malcolm curiously. "Do you happen to have the highest average in the school?

Hermione couldn't help but grin at Malcolm who was smiling at her when he answered. "I only have the second highest."

Enid nodded her head. "Then I did have a need to come here again. I will have to interview Nob after all, to confirm my suspicions, but there should be no further problems." 

*

"It's obvious they fancy each other," Hermione said as they left.

"Not that again, Hermione," Harry laughed.

"They what?" Malcolm asked.

"They like each other. I think they made up an excuse so she could come back here."

"They made it up?" Harry was stunned. "Do you mean to tell me that we had to dress up and come here, so that Argus Filch's twin brother can go out on a stupid date?"

[_That's about right._]

"Yes," Hermione replied.

Harry bristled. "It's Malcolm's fault. I know that. As far as I'm concerned, once we get back, I'm never going to mention this to anyone. And I don't want anyone mentioning it to me. It didn't happen."

"Fine."

"Not a problem."

"Whatever. I know a place that has old fashioned fish and chips."

"I'm for it," Hermione agreed. "Harry?"

"What do they mean by old fashioned? Malcolm?"

"I have no idea. I'm the American. It think it might be a trade name, like Worlds's Best (TM) Cheesecake."

"Hey," Malcolm said suddenly. "I could have asked Colin. I never thought about him."

"Do you mean to say," Harry fumed, "that you did not need me? I don't appreciate hearing that."

"Neither do I," said an old lady sitting on a bench they were passing. "I was supposed to be free this weekend."

"Tonks?"

"You're NOT welcome."

*

"Nob, do you know why I'm talking to you."

"No."

"You do know that your Mommy and Daddy are not your real Mommy and Daddy, but they want to be. They want to be your real Mommy and Daddy very much. I wanted to know how that made you feel.?"

Nob's eyes lit up. "Do you mean that they've applied for legal adoption? Has the process been completed already to the point where you're finalizing the paperwork?"

"Yes, and yes," Enid answered, surprised at the response she received. "And I wanted to ask how you liked school and things like that."

"School is nice," Nob said as he hung his head.

"What's wrong, Nob?"

"The teacher hates me."

"She hates you? That can't possibly be true."

"It is. She always says mean things to me and accuses me of giving her the wrong answers deliberately."

"Why don't you give me an example?"

"She was teaching us numbers and how to add and she asked how much was one plus one and another boy answered two."

"And what did you do?"

"I told the teacher that the answer could be ten, and she told me ten was the wrong answer, but I checked and I would be right if we were using base two."

Enid smiled as she confirmed the little boy's secret.

"I was thinking, Nob. Maybe you don't have the right teacher. After all, she couldn't see the wonderful rainbow you drew."

"You saw my picture?" Nob asked quizzically. "She wouldn't hang it up with the others."

"I know. She didn't believe me when I explained it to her." Enid looked at the brown haired boy. "Nob, I do need to ask you one more question. Did you tell the teacher that you wanted to curse people when you grow up."

"I asked if I could shout curses at people when I grow up. But she got all mad at me."

"Perhaps shouting curses at people isn't a good idea."

"It's fun though. Malcolm taught me how. May you grow a camel hump. May you have children just like you when you grow up. That's Mom's favorite. May you grow a third left foot. . . Would three left feet be a left yard?"

"I have no idea," Enid admitted with a laugh.

*

Enid was smiling when she left Nob's bedroom. She found Lois waiting for her.

"I see no problem with finalizing the adoption. I should be out of your way except for the hearing. Once the judge hits his gavel, you will not hear from me again."

Lois returned the smile. "And I was getting used to you, Enid. Would you like some coffee before you go?"

"I would. There is another matter I need to discuss with you."

Enid waited until after they were seated and the coffee was poured. "Nob has an interesting grasp of numbers."

"That's because of Malcolm. Whenever he was stuck babysitting Nob, he would play number games with him. Kids just soak things up at that age. Of course he was already able to read when he first came to live with us."

"I'm sure he would like Shakespeare. He seems advanced enough to understand it and Shakespeare is perfect for children his age. Lots of bloody battles and sword fights, if you pick the right plays. Nob should also go to a different school. I made a list of the advanced education programs available in this area."

"I don't think so," Lois explained. "I know Nob is smart but I do have experience in this. Malcolm started special schools at ten. That gave him a chance to make normal friends."

"And Nob told me that Malcolm is his role model. Malcolm has already shown him that he can be smart and Nob has already lost his chance to have normal friends, but he does have a chance to make special friends. Friends who are gifted the same way he is."

"I'll look at what you're giving me," Lois agreed.

"That's all there is, then," Enid said.

"Then you'll be going back to Scotland.?"

"I live in London."

"Then I'm confused. You interviewed Malcolm and Reese first because you were already there?"

"I was on a holiday. I had planned it long before your case came up and I stopped by the school on my return from Edinburgh. Otherwise, I should have seen you first. Although things would have happened differently if I had."

"And you can make the government pay your travel expenses. I think you could try to see Hector again."

Enid smiled.


	20. Umbrage

CHAPTER TWENTY: UMBRAGE

  


"I was wondering," Hermione Granger said, "whether you'd thought any more about Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry."

  


Crabbe sat with his arm on Goyle's shoulder, trying to look casual. The result was that Dewey could not be seen by anyone, least of all Harry Potter and Hermione Granger as he watched them from the other side of the library with the Omnoculars. Draco was ready to make notes in their first test of the first year's lip reading ability.

"What are they saying?" Draco asked in a low whisper.

"Granger is asking Potter not to come with them when she and Ron go to Hogsmeade on Saturday."

"What?"

"Potter says that she was supposed to ditch Ron this weekend."

"Are you sure he said that? What does the Weasel have to say?"

"His back is to me," Dewey pointed out. "I read lips, not minds. Potter's reading a book, now. I think he's mad. Wait. He put the book down. He's saying He'll only walk to town with them and Granger asks why and Potter says It's supposed to be me."

"This is stupid," Draco hissed. "Are you telling me that Granger is dating both Potty and the Weasel?"

"I call them as I read them," Dewey said. "I think Ron told Potter to grow up or something, cause he's getting mad again. Now he's looking at Granger. 'What do you do? Look at every boy that walks by.' And Granger says 'you look at all the girls. Besides, you don't own me. And you aren't the only boy in the world. Neville can be quite sensitive.'"

"You're making this up," Draco insisted.

"Do you want to look? You can read their lips for yourself."

"Go ahead," Draco said with annoyance.

"I missed the last of what Granger said because someone interrupted. Ron is talking again and Granger says 'of course'. Ron is talking. Now Potter is asking Granger 'who else have you gone out with?' Granger says 'only Neville and George.' Harry says 'is that true only Neville and George. You must have looked at other boys.' And Granger says, 'if you must know I have.' I think she's mad at him. 'I've even looked at Malfoy.'"

"Me? That filthy uh, um." Draco paused. "Granger's been looking at me?"

Dewey looked at him briefly. "Do you mind?" He looked back. "Granger is saying, 'wiggles in the cutest fashion as he walks away.' Ron is saying something and Hermione says 'Bon Derriere.' I think that's French."

"I know what it means," Draco replied. "What else did she say?"

"That's it," Dewey said. "Justin Finch-Fetchley just sat down between us."

Draco looked over his notes. "Did she actually say I was cute?"

"Parts of you," Dewey admitted.

"Crabbe, Goyle, put your arms down. You look foolish."

  


"Because," Granger said as she went back to her book, "I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to."

  


*

Malcolm walked down to the common room on the bright Wednesday morning to see another crowd in front of the bulletin board.

"Malcolm, did you read the latest Educational Decree."

"Ginny, I delivered it."

Ginny nodded. "It's too bad you didn't know what you were delivering. You could have lost the letter or something."

Malcolm snorted. "All I am is the messenger boy. Umbridge already knew what was in the letter before she sent me."

"I guess you couldn't read the letter anyway, with all the security spells on it."

"Oh, I read it. I just couldn't do anything about it."

Ginny stared briefly, then snorted. "You're worse than Fred and George."

Malcolm smiled. "That is an exaggeration, but thank you for the complement." He listened briefly to the moans. "Umbridge is getting close to taking over the school. You do know that?"

"You said that before, but now I can see it happening. Why can't Dumbledore stop her?"

Malcolm looked at Ginny. "If he does, he plays into her hand. He'll be deliberately interfering with an agent of the Ministry. He isn't helping her, but he isn't stopping her either." Malcolm pawed at the floor. "I just wish she'd hurry up and do it. She's ruining my plans."

Ginny looked at Malcolm in surprise. "What plans?"

[_I have to learn to keep my mouth closed._]

"Um, no plans. Just thinking out loud."

"You've been acting strange, Malcolm. Even over the summer. It's like you were two different people."

"Did you hear?" Malcolm said to change the subject, "The judge approved the adoption. Nob is officially my brother."

"No, he isn't," Ginny said. "My Dad told me about the Minister's decision. The adoption isn't valid."

Malcolm smiled.

*

"Hem. Hem. I wanted to thank you for your help, Dewey. That was a very informative conversation."

"My Mom says it's hormones. She tells me I'll be going through the same thing, soon. Is that true?"

"I'm afraid that happens to all of us, my dear boy. It is, unfortunately, part of the struggle of life."

"Okay then. I guess I'll look forward to it."

Umbridge paused on hearing the remark but put her best face on it. "That's the spirit, Dewey. Look forward to the new challenge."

"Whatever," Dewey replied. "Malcolm says that you're planning on taking over the school. Are you going to do it soon? Things would be a lot better if you did. Even Malcolm says so."

"He does?"

"I heard him muttering to Ginny Weasley that it was obvious and that he wished you would hurry up."

Umbridge looked surprised. "Perhaps I have misjudged him slightly. I think I will give him his reward." She smiled. "I'll warn him before I make a public announcement. That will keep him in line, just in case."

"That would be great," Dewey said happily, because he knew what the announcement was going to be.

*

"Potter's happy," Malcolm said. "They reinstated the Quidditch team. That makes one of you."

Draco looked sullen. "It isn't that. Malcolm, could you apologize for me?"

"Sure. I'm sorry, Draco. Now tell me why I apologized."

Draco shook his head. "You did that deliberately."

"Just trying to make you smile."

"Thank you anyway." Draco paused. "I did something stupid, not that it matters at this point. Remember when you asked about Longbottom and I told you that I keep his secrets and he keeps mine?"

"Who did you tell?"

"Longbottom."

Malcolm paused. "Could you explain that?"

"It's simple. It was the day of the announcement. Your wonderful little brother was at his favorite teacher's door five minutes later, with a list of clubs that Slytherins belonged to. Ten minutes later, he was back in the common room with everyone's approvals. I must say I like the way your brother has ingratiated himself with the most obnoxious teacher in the school."

"And?"

"Do I sense resentment?"

"Annoyance. You're trying to tell me why you feel so bad and you keep bragging about my brother. You do remember that you're talking about Dewey?"

Draco raised his hands in surrender. "You know how I like to tease Potter and his friends?"

[_Tease? Draco couldn't have phrased what he does in nicer terms._]

"You were teasing Potter about?" Malcolm hinted.

"There are so many things, but I chose to deride the possibility of his Quidditch team being reinstated, even though Dewey asked that they be permitted, at least until after we play."

"Draco, you're off on a tangent again."

"No, I am not. I am trying to make a point. I knew they would be reinstated. I was suggesting that they might not be. Then I suggested the possibility of the Gryffindor seeker or some equal person of quality be confined to St. Mungo's because of excessive mental torture. I was referring to Potter, you know, but, um . . ."

"Neville was there."

Draco nodded. "And he tried to attack me." Draco paused. "I never saw him like that. At first I couldn't understand what was going on. It was only until Potter and his cronies dragged him away that I understood what I had done."

Malcolm laughed. "Either way, what you did was stupid. It doesn't matter why you said that, Neville will still hate you for it. Of course I have to ask: Why should you care? You don't like him anyway, despite . . ." His voice faltered.

"If you wish to hate me, Malcolm, Hate me for what I am, not what you think I am. If Longbottom wants to make a cause out of what I said then let it be because I was careless and not callous about it."

"Draco, you really need to sort your priorities. You want me to give him your apology because you didn't mean to insult him, only his friends."

"Yes."

"I like the way you can say that with a straight face. If you want to apologize, you have to do it. It's like fighting a war and apologizing for each time you shoot somebody who doesn't hate you specifically. It's very polite but it's a complete waste of time and nobody cares."

Draco and Malcolm glared at each other for over a minute.

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "If it's that important to you. I'll do it."

"Thank you, cousin. I knew I could trust you. I'll be seeing you."

*

Neville looked up as Malcolm walked into the common room. "If it isn't Slytherins favorite Gryffindor. Have you told any secrets lately?"

"You've finally decided to hate me, too. At least you could wait until I've done something."

"Fine. Do something."

"Draco wants to apologize for the insult he made in your presence. It wasn't anything personal. If it was personal, he would have modified it to include you in an appropriate way."

"You're joking? Malfoy doesn't want me to be insulted by his remarks because they weren't directed at me?"

"Not exactly. Draco doesn't think that way. He doesn't care if you're insulted by what he said as long as you know it wasn't directed at you."

"You are joking?"

"I'm serious. For some reason he doesn't want you to think he was . . . Oh forget it. I told him it was a stupid idea in the first place."

"Malcolm. That qualifies. I'll hate you for giving me that stupid apology. Do you feel better?"

"Oh, yes. It makes me the happiest boy in the world to know that everyone has lined up to hate me because I did the one thing that everyone else wanted to do."

"I hate you, Malcolm. I am not talking to you anymore."

"DON"T," Malcolm shouted causing everyone in the common room to look at him. "I DON'T CARE."

"I'm not listening either."

"I am," EJ said from the corner where he and Amber were studying together. "What did you do?"

"Huh? I walked out of Umbridge's class."

"But . . . you are now her messenger boy, or did something change?"

"Look," Malcolm said, his anger still showing. "If everyone walked out on her, Dumbledore would have stepped in. And he would have had to take her side, even though she is an idiot. You can ask Fred and George. They were thinking along those lines, and I know others were as well. So I did it. I was planning on leaving for the day, anyway, so I made it my excuse. Dumbledore did step in, but on my side. I hope you noticed that. Because it was only me. I'm sorry I didn't have time to inform everyone but it's the type of plan that is best kept secret."

At least a dozen Gryffindors were staring at Malcolm. Amber spoke up first.

"If it is a plan that is best kept secret, why are you telling us."

"Because it's time to start making plans. Umbridge has already decided to make Trelawney her pet project, and if the rumor that Hagrid is coming back turns out to be true, she's ready to add him to the list."

"I declare Malcolm officially paranoid," EJ whispered

Amber smirked, then asked Malcolm, "and you know this because?"

"Dewey. He wants me to do something to help Hagrid."

"Wait," Amber said. "Hagrid barely tolerates you, and he doesn't even know Dewey."

"Yeah, Dewey figures that if Hagrid hates me, he must be a nice guy."

"Then that makes Gryffindors the nicest people in the school," Neville pointed out.

"According to Dewey," Malcolm pointed in return. "Examine your source."

"Point taken. Fine. I won't hate you for a while."

"Thank you," Malcolm said. "I have too many other problems to deal with, anyway. And, Neville, If you try to do anything, just let me know and I'll ask my friend to stay as far away as possible."

"Your friend?" three people asked.

Malcolm smiled and walked to the entranceway. The portrait swung open and Mrs. Norris walked in, curling her tail around Malcolm's legs. Everyone stared in surprise. "Are you ready, Mrs. Norris?" The cat purred. "Find that mean boy Neville." The cat ran to Neville Longbottom and stopped in front of him giving an evil hiss.

Malcolm walked over to Neville and looked down. "Thank you, Mrs. Norris. And could you show Neville that you are really a nice cat?"

Neville was more than surprised when the cat jumped onto his lap and proceeded to lie down.

"She likes to be scratched behind the ears, and if you do a good job she'll let you rub her tummy."

"You're going to provide security for any secret meetings?" Neville asked.

"No, that's too much work. I'm going to distract those in charge."

"What do you get out of this?" Angelina Johnson asked.

"I get to have fun." Malcolm smiled as Mrs. Norris began to purr.

"Oy, Malcolm." Fred and George walked into the room. "How are things?"

"Hermione is in the library with Harry and Ron."

"ALL CLEAR," George called out.

From both staircases the first years entered the common room. En masse, they followed Fred as he led them out of the tower. George ran back to his dorm and returned shortly with a large bag filled with almost anything.

"Malcolm, No one is going to be in that empty classroom on the fourth floor for the next couple of hours. Let Filch know so he doesn't have to check."

"No problem."

"Don't forget about practice tonight," Angelina called.

"Never," George said with a smile as he walked out.

As George left, Malcolm turned to the Gryffindors still in the common room.

Malcolm smiled again. "By the way, Neville, if the rumors about the Quidditch team are true, Ron is the Slytherins favorite Gryffindor."

*

"Did Neville like your apology?" Dewey asked as he met Malcolm in the corridor.

"You know about that?"

"Of course I do. I suggested it when Draco said he was in the mood for some fun."

"And what makes you think I won't pay you back?" Malcolm said as he rubbed his fist in his hand.

"Because Professor Snape is standing directly behind you."

Malcolm looked over his shoulder and saw Severus Snape smiling at him.

[_It's still scary when he does that._]

*

"Malcolm," Hermione said politely.

"Are we talking again?"

"Neville told me what you said. I think that was clever of you to think of that excuse for dropping Umbridge's course."

Malcolm shook his head. "That was the truth, Hermione. It was obvious from the start what was going on. I originally planned on being kicked out, but that didn't happen."

"Why would you want to get kicked out?"

Malcolm looked around the common room. "Do you promise not to tell?"

"I'll promise."

"When Dumbledore told me about Gabrielle, I immediately wrote her school to find out how I could reach her. Madame Maxime wrote back and told me to wait until the school year began but she would talk to Gabrielle. She also told me that there were going to be problems at the school."

"She would know. She's very close to Dumbledore. And Hagrid."

"She also said something else. If I was forced to leave Hogwarts for any reason, she would make a place for me."

Hermione laughed. "That explains everything. Malcolm, You were actually trying to be expelled. But Dumbledore let you stay."

"But Umbridge received permission from the Ministry to expel me anyway. That's what I don't understand. Instead of throwing me out, she made me her messenger, and she gave me responsibilities like monitoring her classes."

"Something must have happened," Hermione agreed. "I'm sorry you can't be with Gabrielle, but I am happy you stayed. I would have missed you."

"Really?"

"Yes. Because I need a favor from you."

"Where don't I have to be?"

"There is no reason at all to go to the fifth . . ."

Malcolm interrupted. "Mrs. Norris will spend most of the night exploring the dungeons. I can guarantee it."

"Thank you," Hermione said sincerely.


	21. As Time Goes By

CHAPTER TWENTYONE: AS TIME GOES BY

  


[_We're at the point in the school year now where everyone has settled into their routines. The only problem is: things become predictable._]

Malcolm took a seat in the Great Hall and began to shovel his breakfast onto his plate. He noticed there was only one muffin left on the tray and reached for it, only to have Ron Weasley grab it before he could.

"Sorry," Ron said with a grin.

[_See what I mean._]

As Malcolm looked up, he saw Susan Bones walking by to the Hufflepuff table.

"Susan, I shouldn't say this but Draco Malfoy is going around telling everyone you have a cute butt."

Susan looked at Malcolm as what he said registered. With an angry look, she walked over to where Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table. Noticing her, he turned around only to receive some sharp words and a slap in the face. Draco jumped out of his chair and began to yell at her, picking up some food with the intent of shoving it in her face. A nearby Ravenclaw stood up, grabbing his hand and the food, which he threw away with great force. Crabbe and Goyle jumped up, as well as several other Slytherins, a few Ravenclaws, and a couple of Hufflepuffs who wanted to defend the honor of their house. A fight ensued, which was quickly broken up by the teachers, resulting in five detentions, nine reprimands and a total combined loss of sixty-seven house points.

As the fight was beginning, Fred and George were walking by on the way to their regular seats. George was looking at the food that had landed in his hand just as he had entered the Great Hall.

"Are you going to eat that?" Malcolm asked.

"No, here," George said, and tossed the muffin to Malcolm.

As Malcolm bit into his muffin, a scowling Ron greeted his sister. Ginny sat down next to Malcolm and asked, "Is that a cranberry muffin? Are there any more?"

"Would you like me to get you one?" Malcolm offered.

"That would be wonderful. Thank you."

Malcolm looked over to the Ravenclaw table and called out, "Hey, Michael . . ."

*

It was almost the end of October when the letter was delivered, by an ordinary owl.

Malcolm had suffered the indignity of delivering every new edict that was issued. Umbridge would make the suggestion and Fudge would give his approval, and both would gleefully watch Malcolm squirm. Malcolm tearfully wrote Gabrielle Delacour, telling her he would not be able to leave Hogwarts and visit her school, and now he was sitting in Dolores Umbridge's office as she waved the letter in her hand.

"Hem. Hem. You have done a very good job, Malcolm, and you deserve a reward. I will make an announcement this evening so that everyone will know your good fortune. I'm sure you appreciate that."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You may go now, you horrid boy."

*

Ginny entered the Great Hall for supper and saw Malcolm sitting by himself. "Does everyone still hate you?"

"Not yet," Malcolm answered sullenly. "That's going to happen tonight. Our favorite teacher is going to make an announcement. She's giving me a reward for doing a good job."

Ginny sat down. "Why is she toying with you like this? I know she hates you but she could force the issue and expel you, or make you an object lesson. Why does she want us to think you like tasking for her?"

"I think we're going to find out."

"Hem. Hem." Professor Umbridge immediately had the attention of everyone in the Hall. "As all of you know, one of our students has gone out of his way to be of exceptional help to me in my efforts at the school. Malcolm, will you please stand up." She smiled as Malcolm rose to his feet to receive the stares of almost everyone. "Many of you know that Malcolm and I did not have the best start but we came to a quick understanding and resolution of out differences, because of our common bond. For more than two years, Malcolm and my daughter . . ."

[_OH MY GOD. SHE"S CAMILLA'S MOM._]

". . . Camilla, have been in correspondence with each other following a chance meeting at Diagon Alley. She has asked me a favor, and I have obtained approval for this from the headmaster. Malcolm will not be here for the Hallowe'en feast because he will be escorting my Camilla to the Beauxbatons Cotillion. I'm sure that all of us wish to congratulate Malcolm."

Malcolm sat down to half-hearted applause.

"Camilla?" Ginny asked, as Malcolm suddenly became the center of attention.

Malcolm took a deep breath. "Picture a rogue elephant in a party dress."

"And you've been corresponding with her?" Fred asked as he sat down across from Malcolm.

"No, she's been writing me. She even told me she cut out my picture from the Daily Prophet and put it in a frame over her bed."

"And you never wrote back?"

"She said she understood that I was too busy."

Ginny smiled warmly. "You need a chaperone. I'm going to volunteer."

"Good luck." Malcolm managed a smile. "I'm willing to bet Umbridge is going to be the chaperone."

"No, she isn't," Neville said from behind. "I heard her talking to Dumbledore. I didn't know what it was about because I was walking away from her too fast, but Dumbledore said that ALL teachers had to be at the feast. Congratulations, Malcolm."

"For what?"

"You're going to Beauxbatons. Gran told me stories. Even with a rogue elephant as a date, you'll love it."

"Neville, Gabrielle will see me. We finally straightened out the mess from last year."

"Accept it, Malcolm. You're doomed."

*

"Malcolm," Ginny said breathlessly. "I did it."

"Did what?"

"Became your chaperone. Umbridge agreed. McGonagall helped with a few chosen remarks about how unpopular I am, as far as boys are concerned. Then she revealed how I consider you to be a younger brother."

"And Umbridge actually agreed?"

"Immediately after McGonagall said I was unsuitable. I get to go as long as I won't give her daughter any competition."

Ginny hugged Malcolm and gave him a peck on the cheek as Ron and Harry walked up.

"Ginny," Ron yelled as he saw them. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to Beauxbatons, and you are not. Hi, Harry. I've got to tell Hermione. Do you know where she is?"

Ron pointed, and Ginny ran off. Ron looked at Malcolm and scowled.

"You're not, you know, boyfriends with Ginny."

[_I have to do this._]

"Yeah, ever since she broke up with Neville. Haven't you noticed? We always sit together."

Ron's face turned an amusing shade of purple.

"He's joking, Ron," Harry said. "You should know that. He's no more Ginny's boyfriend than I am. We already know he fancies that French girl."

Ron glared at Malcolm then walked off with Harry. "That's a good idea, though."

"What is?" Harry asked.

"You and Ginny. You look good together."

"That's what I like about you, Ron. You never lose your sense of humor."

"But I'm serious, Harry . . ."

*

"Happy Birthday, Ginny," Dewey said as he walked up. "I'm sorry I missed your party."

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other.

"It was my birthday," Hermione told Dewey. "I think you mixed up the dates."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione. Happy birthday, but I can't give you the gift."

"What is the gift?" Ginny asked.

Dewey blushed. "I remembered how you looked all dressed up, and, well, I was the one who arranged it so you would have a date with someone I know you like."

*

"Cousin." Draco came strolling around the corner. "I came to congratulate you on your good fortune, which I know you like to share."

"I love to share. You can go in my place if you want to."

"No, but I will be going with you. I had Dewey tell his favorite teacher that I was offering my services to keep you in line. He came back with a permission slip. Ah, to visit France in Autumn."

[_This situation has a familiar ring to it._]

"So, Draco. Are you going to coordinate with Ginny on how you dress?"

Draco laughed. "That was good. I know what you are referring to but that isn't likely to happen."

"Apparently Umbridge knows as well. I guess that's why she liked the idea of Ginny going."

"Uh, um," Draco said as the facts entered his brain. "Excuse me, Malcolm. I remember what happened the last time the three of us went somewhere together. I think instead I'll have myself committed to St. Mungo's."

*

"This isn't going to work, Hermione. I know what will happen. Wait, I know what to do. I'll kill Malcolm and Dewey and hide the bodies."

"It won't work, Ginny. You know about Dewey. You'll have to kill him twice."

*

"This is terrible," Hal said as he came home. "Do you know what I found out? They don't have a real Hallowe'en in this country. We won't be able to get rid of the kids this year."

"Yes we will," Lois said calmly as she finished folding the laundry. "Dewey, get in here. Repeat that poem you learned today."

Dewey grinned. "You mean the one about Bonfire Night?"

"Bonfire?" Hal mouthed and Lois nodded.

Dewey took a deep breath. "Please to remember / The Fifth of November / Gunpowder, Treason and Plot. / I see no reason / why Gunpowder Treason / Should ever be forgot."

"Thank you, Dewey."

As Dewey ran off, Hal asked, "What does treason have to do with bonfires."

Lois explained calmly. "Some guy named Fawkes tried to blow up Parliament a long time ago, and they celebrate the fact that he failed by burning him in effigy. Bonfires. We only have to wait a week."

"I like it, but how do we get rid of the kids."

"There's a parade beforehand. All the kids in the neighborhood dress up like beggars and march through the street. I've already arranged for Dewey and Nob to be part of a group from school."

"You are a genius," Hal said.

"It runs in the family."

*

"This is embarrassing," Malcolm moaned as he sat in the Great Hall. "I can't deal with this."

"Can't deal with what?" Dewey asked.

"Dewey, you're supposed to be in school."

"It's lunch hour. I came here to eat today. I need to ask Hermione a question. It's about the Christmas play."

"What Christmas play," Ginny asked.

"I've got a part and I need to know how to dress."

"That sounds easy enough," Ginny said. "What's the name of the play?"

"Is Hermione here?"

"I've only just walked in," Hermione said from behind him. "What did you want me for?"

"Did Richard the Third have the hunch on his back on the right side or the left?"

"He wasn't a hunchback at all," Hermione said. "That was made up by Shakespeare, to make the winner of the final battle seem more noble. He was trying to impress Elizabeth the First, who was the winner's granddaughter."

"OK," Dewey said. "Did Shakespeare write him with the hunch on the left or the right?"

Hermione smiled. "I don't think he ever said."

"OK." Dewey accepted that. "What is a hunch, anyway?"

*

"Are you ready, Malcolm," Professor McGonagall said rather than asked.

"Yeah. I'm ready," Malcolm said glumly.

[_It's nor fair. A month ago I would have killed to go. Now, I'm tempted to kill for a reason not to go._]

"Don't worry, Malcolm. I'm sure you will find a way to turn this into a positive experience."

"I'm sure you're right, Professor."

[_Neville's right. I am doomed._]

"It's time to meet Professor Umbridge. She wants to make sure you are presentable before you go."

Malcolm followed McGonagall out of the common room without saying a word. Finally he stopped at Umbridge's office and was let in.

"You'll do splendidly,' Umbridge said smugly. She handed him a box and a hairbrush. "This is the corsage you will give Camilla, and this brush is the portkey. Professor Flitwick tells me he made a most ingenious charm. It will work when two students from Gryffindor and one from Slytherin touch it. That guarantees that when you return it will be with the two students you left with."

"That was clever of Professor Flitwick," Malcolm said.

"Hem. Hem. Don't bother to praise that midget. He was only trying to impress me with a cheap trick."

[_Right. And the Grand Canyon is just a hole in the ground._]

Malcolm nodded. "I was just trying to be polite. My mom told me it never hurts."

"Waste your time if you want to," Umbridge said callously. "Now run off to meet your friends, and make sure that my daughter has a wonderful time." She paused and added. "I said go, you horrid boy."

Malcolm quickly complied and found himself almost to the Great Hall when Dewey stopped him.

"Malcolm, I have a wonderful idea. I'm going with you instead of Draco."

"Nobody asked if you wanted to go, and Draco has already told me he's going."

"He changed his mind. He wrote a note. He doesn't want another date with Ginny Weasley. I thought they liked each other?"

"They did, although they never admitted it. But that was before things changed."

Dewey nodded. "Can I go? I can't go to the Hallowe'en feast. I walked in about a minute ago."

Malcolm looked surprised. "Are you telling me that you don't remember being here for Hallowe'en?"

"And I'll find out why I don't remember when I get back."

"Okay," Malcolm finally said, "the portkey needs a Slytherin to activate it. You can go. All we have to do is find Ginny."

"She's in the Great Hall."

"What?"

"She doesn't want to have Draco for a date. She gave me a message when I ran into her. That's when I saw myself, although I don't think I saw me. You know what I mean."

"Dewey, I'm supposed to leave in a minute. I need a Gryffindor."

"I'll help," Matthew Zeller said as he walked past. "I still need practice on being helpful to people. What do you need me for?"

"To go to the Beauxbatons Cotillion."

Matthew's eyes grew wide. "I've heard about that. It's the fanciest ball in the school year. Every student has at least one chaperone, so all the parents try to show off for the other parents. It's the Who's Who in French Wizard Society. Why are you asking me to go?"

"I need a chaperone from Gryffindor. Ginny Weasley bailed on me."

"She what?"

"She changed her mind at the last minute," Dewey said.

"Oh." Matthew Zeller nodded his head. "What do I have to do?"

"Grab hold of this hairbrush," Malcolm said evenly.

Dewey grabbed hold as did Matthew, and they instantly felt the wrenching in their stomachs as they disappeared from Hogwarts' halls and reappeared in front of a different castle.

*

Hogwarts school is housed in a magically altered Medieval castle. The first impression one receives is the type of place where Richard the Lion Hearted might reign. A better thought would be King Arthur with his Round Table of knights.

Beauxbatons was a different style of castle. It spoke of the Renaissance, with it's flowing grace. Delicately framed windows were everywhere, making the castle seem, from certain angles, to be made entirely of glass, and glass of every hue. The castle, with its grand arches, was surrounded by gardens. The main entrance, Malcolm noted when he looked around, was approached by a straight road through a grassy landscape, with flowers and fountains interspersed with lines of shrubs.

"It's like Versailles if it was designed by a wizard." Malcolm was amazed.

"That's almost correct," Matthew Zeller said. "But you have it backward. The French Monarch visited the school for some reason and fell in love with it. He had muggle architects try to reproduce the building and grounds."

"Whatever," Malcolm said. "Why don't you guys get lost? I need to meet my doom."

"OK," Dewey said, and they left before Malcolm could change his mind.

[_Not that I would change my mind. I'm not crazy enough to want either of them to stay._]

"Are you Malcolm?" A Beauxbatons student asked, his voice thick with a French accent.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to meet Camilla Umbridge."

"And I will be your guide. I am Jean Paul."

"Jean Paul Delacour?"

"Oui. Camilla is this way."

Jean Paul led the way beneath the glass filigree portico and into the main hall. Malcolm stopped at the entrance in surprise. The entire room was bigger than the Great Hall, with tall thin stained glass windows at regular intervals. With the sun beginning to set, The room was lit in a vast relief of colors.

"Richard of York," Malcolm mused.

"Pardon?"

'Talking to myself," Malcolm explained. "Can we get this over with? Where's Camilla?"

"You're American," a blond English girl said. She was Jean Paul's age, and extremely attractive. By the way she took Jean Paul's hand, she was also spoken for. "You must be Malcolm. Camilla has been talking about you to everyone."

"Oh."

Jean Paul grinned. "Malcolm is not pleased with the arrangements. He is the one who caused my sister to fall in love."

[_This is Great. I bet everyone here knows what's going on._]

"I have to be honest. I was forced on this date. The last time I met her she outweighed me by a couple hundred pounds. I hate to think what she looks like now." Malcolm tried to smile as the couple stared at him.

"Then I will help," Jean Paul said. He pointed at the box Malcolm was holding. "Is that supposed to be for Camilla?" Malcolm nodded. Jean Paul turned to the girl. "My dear. Do you make any objection that I help this poor boy and take his place?"

"None at all," Camilla said as she accepted the corsage from her beau.

"You're Camilla," Malcolm stammered. "But . . . you look great."

"Thank you, Malcolm. But you still have to find yourself another date."

"Try the girl standing behind you," Jean Paul suggested. His grin matched the one on Camilla's face.

Malcolm saw Jean Paul wink, and realized what had happened. He mouthed the words. "Thank you," and turned around to face the girl standing behind him. He said nothing for almost a full minute.

"You are as beautiful as I remembered."

"You are as 'andsome as I remembered," Gabrielle Delacour replied.


	22. Beauxbatons

A/N I thank mandraco for the nitpicking. I will correct the typo and, because I don't understand the pun either, I will spell compliment correctly, which is to say that I will use the correct spelling of compliment not that I will substitute the word correctly for it.

To Black Ice, I'm sorry that you are confused, but this chapter should explain why Malcolm is there. If confusion still continues, take two aspirin and curse the author.

  
  


CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: BEAUXBATONS

  


"This," Matthew Zeller said in perfect French, "is the future."

"What is it?" came the reply from one of a number of young students gathered in the boys bathroom.

"It is a collection of the most vile jokes you have ever seen. Induced vomiting, bloody noses that won't stop running, high fevers and, for the members of your school with a mild turn of stomach, a sleeping potion."

"Your French is very good, but we need better proof than that."

Matthew Zeller took half of the toffee. He immediately held a handkerchief under his nose which began to bleed. After a few murmurs of appreciation, he took the other half, and showed them that the bleeding had stopped. He then demonstrated the vomiting toffee, with similar success.

"How much," one student asked.

"I told you, it is the future. Consider what I've shown you and send any requests for prices to either of the persons on this card. We will be taking orders for the Christmas season." He began handing out cards for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. In addition to the names of the twins, his own name was on the card as well with the notation, 'salesman'.

*

"This is a really nice place," Dewey said to the girl his age.

"Je ne parley Anglais," The girl said with a smile.

"Yeah, I don't speak it too good either. Do you go to school here?"

"Parley vous Francais?" the girl asked.

"No, I never tried. Do you play Quidditch?"

The girl laughed. Dewey grinned. The girl grabbed Dewey by the hand, and led him to a group of her friends. They spoke for several minutes and the only word that Dewey understood was Quidditch. By ones and twos the group of boys and girls slipped out of the guest hall, the girl taking Dewey by the hand. A short time later, an informal game was being played in the waning sunlight.

*

"This is stupid," Reese said as they walked across the lawn. "It's Hallowe'en and this school isn't doing anything."

Anthony grinned. "Wait a few days. On the fifth, we'll be lighting the bonfire."

"You know, Malcolm's school has a big feast going on."

"That doesn't mean very much," Anthony pointed out. "Do you know where his school is? Do you know how to get there?"

"It requires a fireplace."

Anthony looked at Reese's serious expression. "I'll pass."

"I have the floo powder."

"The what? Never mind. I'm not interested."

"Don't be stupid. You're my friend. Of course you want to go."

"I'm not your friend." Reese looked at him. "I'm supposed to keep an eye on you."

Reese smiled. "Close enough. C'mon."

"No."

"You can't watch me if you're not with me."

Anthony persisted. "Why do you want me to come with you? Why don't you just go by yourself?"

Reese countered with logic of his own. "If I go by myself, I'll get into trouble."

"And if I go with you, we'll both get into trouble."

"Exactly. It will be the same trouble but only half as bad."

"NO."

"Good," Reese said and grabbed Anthony by the arm. "There's a fireplace in the big room by the principle's office."

"He's the headmaster, you idiot. Let me go."

"Fine," Reese said. "Stay here and have a boring night. I'll go to the party myself. I know I can find a few girls to talk to, Shorty."

"That isn't fair, calling me names," Anthony said. "I'm only trying to talk some sense into you. You can't go wandering off whenever you feel like it."

"Yes, I can," Reese said and reached into his pocket for a small bag. He crumpled up a piece of paper, lit it with a match that 'just happened to be there', and threw the paper into the old fashioned fireplace. "Gryffindor," he called out as he threw a pinch of the floo powder onto the flame.

"Cor," Anthony said as the small fire suddenly flared up and turned bright green. His next words were lost as Reese pushed him into the flames.

*

Hermione was sitting by the fireplace waiting for Harry and Ron to get ready. She put down her book in time to see a boy trip out of the fireplace and land with his face on the cushion next to her.

"May I help you?" Hermione asked after recovering quickly from her surprise.

"No thanks," Anthony said as he righted himself and sat on the couch next to her.. "It's too late. I hate that Reese."

Hermione looked up as Reese stepped casually out of the fireplace.

"Okay, Anthony. It's this way to the party." Reese gestured toward the entranceway.

Hermione looked at Anthony's scowl and turned back to Reese. "He looks a bit shaken. Why don't you go on ahead. I'll bring him down when he's ready."

"Sure, but if anybody asks, he showed up first. I only came because I had to follow him."

As Reese left, Hermione turned back to Anthony. "Did he really bring you along as an excuse?"

"It definitely wasn't my idea," Anthony complained. "I have a lot of homework due tomorrow and people will be angry if I don't deliver."

"You mean your teachers?"

Anthony startled. "Oh, yes, the teachers. I was talking about the teachers being angry." To change the subject, he asked, "You weren't very surprised when I arrived here. Why?"

"I was at first, but when I saw your jacket I remembered about Reese's school. Once I realized that Malcolm or one of his brothers were involved, I knew to be prepared for anything."

"How comforting," Anthony said snidely, and Hermione laughed.

"What was the joke, Hermione?" Harry asked as he and Ron walked up.

"Harry, Ron, this is a friend of Reese. They used the fireplace to come to the school for the Hallowe'en feast."

"Reese has friends?" Ron asked.

"I'm supposed to watch him," Anthony explained. "Thanks to his brother, Reese has too many surprises for me to keep up with. Today, I learned about Floo Powder."

Ron scowled. "Mum said she noticed some of our floo powder was missing."

"Talk to Reese. He could probably lend you some." Anthony smiled to show Ron that he did understand.

Harry couldn't help but look amused. "Hermione, is this going to happen all the time? I mean, muggles aren't supposed to show up at school uninvited."

Hermione smiled. "Harry, aren't you the least bit curious that Reese and, Um,"

"Anthony," Anthony supplied.

"And Anthony were able to use the floo network to get to Gryffindor Tower from a muggle school?"

"When Malcolm is involved, NO," Ron added helpfully.

Anthony had to interrupt. "Does Malcolm always get this reaction?"

Ron smirked and Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry was the one who answered the question.

"You have to understand Malcolm. He is in Gryffindor. His best friend is in Slytherin. His best friend is also my worst enemy in this school. Malcolm's brother is in Slytherin as well. The same brother is also attending a muggle school. Malcolm's parents have recently adopted a house elf. And, to top off everything else, Malcolm is the lapdog of the worst teacher in the school."

"That's not true," Hermione countered.

"Then why is he going to Beauxbatons on a date with her daughter?"

"He isn't. He has a date with Gabrielle Delacour." Hermione looked smug. "Because I wrote a letter."

"You?" Harry asked.

"Wrote a letter?" Ron asked.

"What's Beau Buttons?" Anthony asked.

"It's a school of magic in France. And yes, I wrote a letter. When I heard about her daughter . . ."

"You knew about her daughter?" Ron asked.

"Of course I did, and quit interrupting. The first bit of gossip about Umbridge was that she resented Dumbledore because her daughter wasn't accepted at Hogwarts. I didn't have to listen much to find out that her name was Camilla. I wrote to her and explained the situation. She wrote back almost immediately that she would love to help. As I suspected, she was thinking of inviting him anyway."

"I'm confused," Anthony said. "How does Umbridge's daughter know Malcolm?"

"I'd like an answer to that one myself," Ron said.

"Boys!" Hermione said with exasperation. "Don't you ever talk to each other? Amber told me about Camilla during Malcolm's first year. He kept getting letters from her with numbers listed on them. When he met her, she weighed, well, I'm not sure but it was more than the three of you combined."

Harry smiled, "I remember now. Hagrid told me during one of my visits how he saw Malcolm yelling at some girl. He shouted that he could like her if she lost two hundred pounds. And those numbers were . . ."

". . . how many pounds she still needed to lose," Hermione confirmed. "Wait here."

Hermione ran to her dorm and came back with two photographs. "Camilla sent me these, to let me know why I shouldn't tell Malcolm. She wanted to surprise him. Here's before."

Harry, Ron and Anthony looked at a horrible photograph (all the more horrible because it was an excellent photograph) of a self conscious twelve year old girl who was almost as wide as she was tall. They quickly turned away.

"Here's after. The result of two years work, just because of Malcolm's snide remark. Camilla is the one on the left."

"Whoa," Ron said. "She looks great!" He saw Hermione's scowl. "I mean, it's quite an improvement. Really."

"Do you mind if I look?" Harry said. Ron reluctantly gave up the photograph, and Harry's mouth fell open. "This can't be Umbridge's daughter. She's . . . She's . . ."

"Careful, Harry," Ron whispered.

"She . . . Ron was right. It is quite an improvement."

"May I," Anthony said, and grabbed the photograph. He looked at it briefly, then looked at Hermione. "If this is the girl that Malcolm doesn't want to date, what does the other girl look like?"

"Well, she's short. She's twelve and looks ten. And she's part Veela. You can see her in the picture. That's Camilla, that's her boyfriend, Jean Paul, and that's Gabrielle."

"And she's twelve?"

"Almost thirteen."

Anthony smiled. "I don't feel so bad after all. At least I know I'm not alone."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"You do know that I'm fourteen?"

"You are? But you're so . . ."

Anthony scowled. "I know."

"Sorry," Ron muttered.

"Shall we go to the Hallowe'en feast?" Hermione suggested. "We need to let Dumbledore know about our guests."

Harry glanced at the fireplace, but no one noticed the resentful look on his face. "I think he knows already. I'll bet he was the one who had the two fireplaces connected."

Hermione sensed a touch of stress in his voice. "Then we'll simply have fun." She looked at Anthony. "All of us."

*

"Hi, Ginny."

"Hi, Dewey. I see you came for the Hallowe'en feast."

Dewey remained standing at the Gryffindor table. "Who were you talking to, outside. He looked familiar."

"It was a first year student. Don't worry about it."

"It was me," Dewey insisted as he became agitated. "I saw you talking to me. What am I doing here? How can I be in two places at once?"

"I'll take care of this." Professor McGonagall said as she walked forward. She ushered Dewey away from the Gryffindor table. "It seems that you are going to fall back in time," she explained. "The result is that you are already attending Hogwarts."

"Really? What house am I in?"

"Slytherin, I regret to say. But the important thing is that you must not know this has happened."

"But I already know," Dewey pointed out.

"Oblivate," Mcgonagall explained firmly. "Dewey, you didn't come here today. You were too tired and fell asleep."

A dazed Dewey simply nodded his head, when McGonagall suddenly noticed Peeves at his side.

"I will take care of him." Peeves said calmly and he walked Dewey out of the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall paused, as she looked around to make sure no one was following, then went after Peeves, but when she reached the corridor she saw no one. Peeves and Dewey had disappeared.

*

Malcolm looked fondly at Gabrielle, who returned the look. They stayed that way for several minutes.

"I don't know what to say, Gabrielle. I had so many speeches rehearsed and now they seem inadequate."

"Then say nothing," Gabrielle said. "I am only happy that you are here."

"You're English is great," Malcolm replied. "My French is terrible."

"I practiced because I thought I might have need."

"I didn't because it was useless. I was a fool."

"It was I who was the fool. I knew you understood my heart. I thought you would understand my mind."

"I didn't think. I should have known. I"m sorry. Please forgive me."

"I cannot. It is you who must forgive me."

"I'm sorry for interrupting," Camilla Umbridge said, "but the two of you sound like a couple in a romance novel. Why don't you stop worrying about who should forgive who. Besides the Cotillion is about to start."

Malcolm looked up as a man on a white horse strode into the guest hall. He was dressed all in brown with a crown of green leaves. He then shouted something about the king.

In a show of pageantry, the man dismounted and the horse was led away. He turned to the entranceway and shouted something else about the king.

At this point an old woman entered the hall carrying a small cauldron, the size that Malcolm used in Potions. As she slowly walked toward the man, Malcolm dared to ask what was going on.

"It is the celebration of the ancient feast of Samonois," Gabrielle explained. "Just as the sun is sitting the king of the old year rides in and announces himself. He looks out the entrance, and when he sees that the sun has set, he announces the end of his reign, of his life, shouting, "the king is dead."

Gabrielle pointed as the king took the cauldron and drank from it. "That is the Cauldron of Life. To drink from it is to restore someone who is recently dead to the land of the living. The dead king drinks, and is reborn as the king of the New Year."

Malcolm nodded. "So tomorrow is the first day of the new year?"

Gabrielle smiled. "Everyone asks that question. We are talking about our ancient ancestors, before the Romans came to Gaul. For them, the day ends when the sun sets. This was traditionally the celebration of the New Year."

"And the old year ends when the sun sets on the last day."

Gabrielle smiled to show he understood correctly. "In those days the celebration would last several days, but we are much wiser and limit it to one night."

Music had already begun, and the King of the New Year was dancing with the old woman who had brought the cauldron, signaling the beginning of the festivities. Other couples joined in.

"Shall we dance," Malcolm offered gallantly, and Gabrielle blushed as she took his arm. They danced with acceptable skill although Malcolm would never say how he managed a waltz. As they danced, Malcolm couldn't help noticing the people around them. Anyone close enough would make a comment.

[_This is weird, but we're the only kids dancing. The youngest couple here looks about five years older, at least._]

The dance ended and the several couples paused to applaud, many of them turning toward Malcolm and Gabrielle.

"What's going on?" Malcolm whispered.

"Only those whose love are plaited are permitted to dance with the king," a comely lady answered in passable English. "Did you not know that?"

"No."

"Would you have danced anyway?"

Malcolm looked at Gabrielle and they both smiled. There was another burst of applause and the king walked over and removed his crown, holding it over Malcolm's head."

"His crown is made of mistletoe," Gabrielle whispered. "Do you know what that means?"

"I know mistletoe," Malcolm assured her.

[_Of course, it doesn't help that over a thousand people are watching us._]

[_But if he kisses me quickly it will be over with_.]

The hall erupted in applause.

*

"You have made a reputation for yourself," Jean Paul assured Malcolm as he handed the boy something to drink.

"Ugh. What is this?"

"Champagne. I thought it appropriate."

Malcolm looked surprised as Gabrielle calmly drank from her glass. "Aren't we too young to drink?"

"Perhaps," Jean Paul grinned, "so I removed the alcohol."

Malcolm smirked as Gabrielle frowned, but Jean Paul shook his finger at her. "You will thank me, little sister, once you know better. Every pleasure has it's price."

"Such as dancing the first dance," Camilla pointed out. "Malcolm, you do know that you have destroyed my little ruse."

"Your what?"

Ruse? It means a plan of deception. I told my mother that I wanted you to be MY date. When she reads about the Cotillion in tomorrow's paper, probably with pictures, she will know the truth."

[_That mean that I'm dead. There's nothing I can do. Well, there is one thing._]

"Did you know that my brother Reese is an idiot. He never thinks about tomorrow. I think I'm going to follow his example."

"Bon Mot," Jean Paul cried. "It seems, at times, that your brother could be considered a genius."

[_I won't tell him, but that is going a bit far._]

Malcolm turned to Gabrielle. "What would you like to do?"

"Find one of the smaller rooms. We have shown off for the adults enough."

"There are other rooms?"

"There are enough people to have different forms of music. I was hoping to find something more modern."

Camille pointed to an archway where several teenagers were exiting, and the foursome followed, to be stopped by a towering woman.

"Madame Maxime," the others said, and bowed, or curtseyed out of politeness. The Headmistress curtseyed in return, a formidable feat. "Your love has proven true once again," she said to Malcolm and Gabrielle. "You will then sit with me at the midnight feast?"

The two nodded with matching blushes.

Madame Maxime turned to the other couple. "Perhaps you will come to my table as well." She smiled when they both nodded enthusiastically. "If I know your hearts, I think you will want to visit the East Hall. Le Sorcerers Mal are performing there."

As she left, Camilla hugged Malcolm. "I love you after all. Do you know what you did? We are sitting at the high table. Only the best of society ever has a chance."

Jean Paul laughed. He explained in his thick accent, "You have made everyone jealous of the two planets."

"I don't understand."

Camilla smiled. "I saved an old picture, just in case." She flicked her wand and called out, "Accio, Photo," and caught the flying photograph a minute later. She showed Malcolm the picture. It was a photo of eight children. Six of them took up one half of the picture. Camilla, and, Malcolm assumed, Jean Paul took up the other half. "We were so big, someone said, we could be our own planets."

"Look," Gabrielle said as they passed by a window. Even Malcolm had to laugh at what they saw. Some of the younger students had decided to play Quidditch instead. An enterprising wizard spotted them as the light was failing, and instead of ordering them to stop, as any reasonable parent would do, he cast a variation of the Lumos spell. The Quaffle shone pale like the moon, as did the three hoops at either end of the field. The bludgers were red, the brooms for one team shown blue, and those of the other team glowed green. Most amazing of all was the snitch. It would glow for half a second every five seconds or so, leaving a yellow trail that reminded Malcolm of a supersonic firefly.

"That was probably Monsieur Fantaine," Camilla pointed out. "He is an excellent charms teacher."

The four found the East Hall to be exactly what they wanted, and a good time was had by all.


	23. The First Day of the New Year

A/N: To Mandraco, I never even thought of that word. While both would work, yours is a better choice.

To answer Phoenix Flight's question, it could have that meaning. To plait one's troth is an old phrase meaning to become engaged. In this context, it has a different symbolism. It is not an engagement or a commitment but an acknowledgment.

The entire sequence of the feast of Samanois (Samhain for all you Irish) is symbolic of the original festival. This was the beginning of the new year. Consequently, the first dance is for those who are married, who have the potential to bring new life. Malcolm and Gabrielle should not have been dancing, and Gabrielle probably knew that. After all, she knew about everything else.

While I'm on a tangent, technetium commented that Susan Bones might be a reference to Terry Prachett's Discworld Character, Susan Sto-Helit. I wouldn't put it past JK Rowling. I often wondered if Neville Longbottom, who is interested in Herbology, was a polite nod to Tolkien and his mention of Longbottom leaf as the finest pipe weed in the shire. That is a little farfetched perhaps but the following is not.

Hermione Granger's cat is named Crookshanks. It is a nice enough name, but George Cruikshank was the illustrator for Charles Dickens, as well as a close friend. It has been noted by others that Rowling imitates Dickens' style of descriptive naming. This could be a nod to the most popular writer of the nineteenth century from one of the most popular writers of the twenty-first century. Or it could be another coincidence and mean nothing. 

  
  


CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE: 

THE FIRST MORNING OF THE NEW YEAR

  


It was almost dawn when Malcolm returned to the room behind the Great Hall. Professors McGonagall and Snape were there to greet him upon his return.

McGonagall's frown had a merriment to it. "However did you manage to get two sleeping boys to grab the portkey?"

"I did have help," Malcolm managed to say. "Everyone had a wonderful time."

"I'm sure," Snape said as he roused Dewey and forced him to his feet. "And how did he get so dirty?"

"Playing Quidditch in the dark," Malcolm said. They made everything glow except the ground."

"It was great," Dewey said, managing to sound cheerful and tired at the same time.

"Too bad you couldn't have stayed," Snape added wistfully, as he walked the boy back to Slytherin."

McGonagall looked at the sleeping form of Matthew Zeller. "Sometimes I wonder if the Sorting Hat knows more than we do. You are such an odd one."

"Excuse me," Malcolm said.

"It was nothing. A random thought." McGonagall smiled at Malcolm. "It shouldn't be too early for breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"Not really. I had to wait until midnight to eat, and then I stuffed myself ."

"Some tea, then?"

Malcolm nodded and McGonagall walked him to her office. She paused briefly before she left the room to transform a chair into a comfortable bed, and to float Matthew into it. Once in her office, she listened to Malcolm as he described Beauxbatons, the Guest Hall and the other sights, but as she settled him into a chair and gave him his tea, her face took on a serious look.

"You do know the trouble you have managed to cause."

[_I don't. I haven't had time to think about it._]

"Kind of."

"Then you don't." McGonagall showed him a wizarding newspaper, obviously French. The picture was of Malcolm and Gabrielle kissing each other while the crown of mistletoe was being held over their heads. "The two of you kissed for quite some time, if this picture is any indication."

"Not really. Those pictures always exaggerate things."

"I am so relieved," McGonagall said mockingly. "You do understand the serious problem we are facing with Professor Umbridge at this school? And you do understand that she has gone against her natural instincts to keep you in this school? And you do understand that it is because of her daughter's infatuation with you?" Malcolm nodded each time. "Then how could you put yourself in this situation?"

"It was Camilla's idea."

[_I lied. I did have time to think about it._]

*

Albus Dumbledore looked up in amusement as Dolores Umbridge marched into his office with Professor McGonagall. Umbridge had a copy of the Daily Prophet clutched firmly in her hand.

Minerva smiled at Albus. "I found Professor Umbridge trying to enter your office, but she apparently did not receive her notice about the change in password."

Albus nodded. "I did not send one. I informed the teachers when we gathered at breakfast. Apparently, Professor Umbridge, you missed that meal. I only told Professor McGonagall earlier, in case she needed to bring Malcolm to me."

"Hem. Hem. It was ill timed on your part, if I may say so and, after what he did, why wasn't he brought here?"

McGonagall said sternly. "Because he was exhausted and the only reason to bring him here would be to watch him sleep."

Albus raised a hand. "May I ask what Malcolm has done?"

Umbridge threw her copy on the desk and pointed. "All you have to do is read the headline and look at the two pictures."

"Malcolm will be impressed. He has never made the front page of the Daily Prophet, except for the time he revealed himself to be an animagus."

"And for his charity work at the hospital," McGonagall pointed out.

Albus nodded. "I had forgotten about that."

"And when it was revealed that he was the first American student at Hogwarts."

"I had forgotten about that as well."

Minerva continued. "You may have missed the recent issue where they revealed that he is the nephew of Lucius Malfoy. And I can never forget the time when he . . ."

"That isn't the point," Umbridge yelled. "Don't you see what he is doing? The one picture shows him dining with my daughter, and the other picture shows him kissing . . . another girl."

"This is dreadful," Albus agreed. "He should definitely have been kissing your daughter."

Umbridge looked horrified. "NO. He shouldn't have been kissing anyone. He was supposed to be on a date with my daughter."

Albus looked confused. "From the way your daughter looks, she apparently didn't mind the fact that he kissed another girl. And, while kissing is frowned upon, it does happen when young men and women gather together. What did you daughter tell you?"

"I haven't spoken to her, and there is no need. The article says it all?"

Albus glanced at the paper. "The article that says 'Wizard prodigy turns playboy'? I must ask, Professor Umbridge what it is you want me to do?"

Umbridge smiled as though she was waiting for the headmaster to ask. "I have the authority from the Minister to order you to expel him for indecent conduct."

Albus nodded. "Professor McGonagall, will you please inform Malcolm that his presence is no longer welcome at this school."

McGonagall smiled. "I will waken him immediately. I know he will want to hear the good news at once."

"Good News?" Umbridge stared at the Transfiguration Professor in shock.

"Yes, for Malcolm this will be good news. Apparently he has been trying to be expelled."

Albus even managed to look surprised. "Is that what his scheme's were all about?"

"I thought it was obvious," McGonagall said. "He started the school year by smuggling that muggle boy into the school. He followed that by jumping off one of the towers, frightening the First Years, He deliberately walked out of a mandatory class on his very first day. He arranged for that absurdity of an adoption to make himself an embarrassment to the school. And now this. With six more months until the end of the school year I would hate to think of what else he will come up with."

"Why?" was all Umbridge could manage to say.

Minerva frowned. "This incident makes it is clear that it is because of your daughter. Malcolm was tired and answered any question I asked without even thinking about it. He revealed that he was invited to Beauxbatons by Camilla Umbridge."

"I know that," Umbridge stammered. "She wrote to me explaining that she had promised to ask him and . . . That doesn't make sense."

"It does if you know two things. There has been regular correspondence between Malcolm and Camilla for the past two years. And last year, during the Triwizard Tournament, Malcolm befriended a young girl, the sister of one of the contestants. She played the part of a hostage in one of the tasks. I do not think it is necessary to point out the young girl to you, but as a result Madame Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons, formed a liking for Malcolm and made him a generous offer . . . in writing. If Malcolm leaves this school for any reason other than failing grades, she will make a place for him at her school." McGonagall looked pointedly at Umbridge. "At Camilla's school."

In the stunned silence, McGonagall added, "I asked Malcolm what he and Camilla were doing in that picture, and he said she was thanking him. I neglected to ask Malcolm why."

Albus nodded, "I see no need to ask him. The answer seems obvious. Dolores, do you still wish to punish Malcolm by giving him what he wants? I am sure your daughter will not object."

Umbridge sat down, heavily. Albus returned her newspaper and she gazed at the other picture. "I didn't notice it before, but that other girl couldn't possibly be a student. She looks to be no more than ten."

"I know of the girl," Albus acknowledged. "She has a brother at that school, and a sister who recently graduated."

"That explains it all," Umbridge said angrily, talking to herself. "It all comes down to a newspaper trying to increase its sales by sensationalizing an innocent encounter. I will speak to the editor." She looked at Albus with complete control over her emotions. "For the time being, I will refrain from making my request, but I must demand that someone discuss 'certain matters' with that horrid boy, especially as it is obvious he has designs on my poor Camilla. And let him know that I will be explaining things to my daughter so that she fully understands his deviousness."

"I do understand," Albus assured the DADA Professor. "Professor Snape has an almost fatherly relationship with Malcolm. I will ask him to broach the subject. Is that acceptable?"

"That will do splendidly," Umbridge said, and left to attend to her own business.

As Umbridge left, Albus raised an eyebrow. "Do you really believe that Malcolm was trying to be expelled?"

"Of course not. The letter specifically said if he left, not if he was expelled. If he really wanted to go there, he could have simply told you he was leaving."

"And he has not," Albus admitted. "Oh, dear. We failed to correct Professor Umbridge's impression of Gabrielle Delacour."

"It is my fault, Albus. I failed to mention that she was a student, and I should have. I think I also gave her the impression that there was a romance going on between Malcolm and her daughter."

"You are forgiven, Minerva. It was an honest mistake."

"Thank you, Albus," Minerva said with a mirthful grin. "Should I show the muggle child in? He is very anxious to get back to his own school."

"This would be an appropriate time. He has already missed his first class."

"He was so upset to find out that Reese had left."

Albus smiled. "That was the fault of Argus Filch. He gave Malcolm's brother the impression that he need not wait around."

Minerva nodded. "It seems that everyone is getting the wrong impression from us. We must watch what we say."

McGonagall left and returned shortly with Anthony. The boy was clearly agitated.

"Sit down, Anthony. We need to have a little discussion."

"Please, Sir. I didn't mean to come here, and I did not know how to get back to my school. That idiot Reese disappeared . . ."

Albus held up his hand. "He was smart enough to bring you to this school, at my request. It was also at my request that he left without you although the timing was left to someone else. I felt it important that you should stay here long enough so that you could not fulfill your obligations."

Anthony looked scared but tried to look surprised. "I don't understand."

Albus smiled grimly. "Then I will explain. Your friend, Reese, is a poor confidant. He revealed your secret to his brother, who made it a point to let everyone in his house know how Reese was passing his courses. In turn, they discussed the amusing situation with their friends. Within a day, several teachers informed me, in case I wished to pass the information along. That was when Reese was informed that he could not come to the school by himself."

"You told him he had to bring someone, like me?"

Albus chuckled. "You clearly do not understand Reese. I told him, or more correctly Headmaster Filch told him that he could not come to Hogwarts by himself. That made Reese want to come, and because you are the closest person he has to a friend he decided to drag you along. It was a simple plan. What is most amusing is that you also revealed what you were doing, by your unsubtle remark to Miss Granger who in turn mentioned it to her head of house. She likes you for some reason and was worried." Albus looked at his pocket watch. "I do believe your second class has begun. The teacher is expecting everyone to hand in their homework. You will probably be excused because you were away for a good reason. At least three other students will be upset, but I can do nothing for them. Anthony, do you understand where this discussion is going?"

The boy nodded.

"Good. You have two choices at this point. You can continue going to the school you attend now, or you can be expelled. The choice is yours."

Anthony looked at Dumbledore's unfriendly face. For a brief moment he wished he was facing Filch instead. "I'd like to stay where I am, Sir."

"Another good answer. You will find life easier when you return. You will be doing only your own homework. And the money you need for supplies will come from helping out in your school cafeteria."

"No," Anthony almost screamed, "That's work for charity cases."

"Which is what you are," Albus said emphatically. "You attend that school because of a scholarship. Otherwise you would be going to that school down the road from your house. The one with the fence around it. Have you ever been inside that school? Many of the students there have the same attitude that you have, to get what they can any way they can. But you are supposed to know better. The first step is not to be ashamed of who you are or it becomes a weight that will drag you down throughout your life. Working in the kitchen will show everyone who you are. The question is whether or not you can live with it."

"You don't know what it's like."

"Really? I know what it isn't like? We have several students here who have hard luck stories. Would you like to hear about the orphaned boy who spent ten years of his life sleeping in a cupboard, and wearing hand me down clothes because his relatives didn't care. Perhaps the similarities are too close? Or I could tell you about the girl who was so smart she thought she didn't need any friends, but that would seem too familiar.. Then there's the rich boy who always hid the truth about his brother, that he had a brother, because it was an embarrassment."

"That has nothing to do with my problem."

"None of those things do. The point is that each of them was honest with someone, and they thrived as a result. They are better people, and happier. I suggest you try honesty. It may surprise you."

Anthony tried to sneer. "And I suppose you never lie."

Albus sneered back. "Never to myself." He watched as the boy sat back in surprise. "You can go, now. Mister Filch is waiting outside. He will escort you to his brother's school."

"Yes, Sir." Anthony stood up sullenly. "Why, Sir? Why bring me here to tell me this?"

"You have friends here. Hector has told me that you have none at your school. By telling you while you are here, you have someone to talk to about it."

"But I'm leaving?"

"By way of the Great Hall. I insist that you stay for the midday meal. We will not have you leave here while you are hungry."

"Is that supposed to be good news?"

"It depends upon your mood. But I do have good news for you. It is obvious that you have grown almost an inch since you were last at this school."

Albus almost laughed as Anthony became a mass of conflicting emotions. He was sure the boy would have something to talk about to his friends.

*

It was Saturday morning when Malcolm finally made an appearance in the Great Hall. In true form, the entire student body failed to notice. He sat down and began to shovel pancakes on to his plate.

"Hungry?" Dennis asked as he spotted him and sat down.

"Professor Umbridge decided to have me join her for a private conversation over dinner, yesterday, and I had already slept through breakfast and lunch. I'm a little hungry."

"You missed all the fun. Reese showed up at the feast, along with little Dewey."

Malcolm smiled. "Big Dewey told me he spotted himself, and took Draco's place as my escort. He ended up playing Quidditch all night, until he hit the ground."

"Ow, that must have hurt. He could have stayed here. Little Dewey saw him and started to panic. Snape pointed him out to McGonagall. She cast a spell on Dewey to make him forget he was ever here. He smiled for the rest of the night."

"Dewey?"

"No, Snape," Dennis explained. "Dewey left right after McGonagall cast the spell. Snape was cheerful for the entire night, until he found Reese in the bushes with, well, a Slytherin."

"Not Pansy Parkinson? She hates my entire family."

Dennis nodded toward the entrance, and Malcolm turned to look.

[_She looks familiar._]

"Who is that? I've seen her around but I can't place her."

"Instead of the shiny hair tied back, think dull shaggy bangs."

"That can't be Millicent Bulstrode. She looks like an Olympic swimmer. Millicent looks like a bouncer at a seedy nightclub."

Dennis smiled. "She was inspired. She didn't show up for breakfast yesterday, and she missed her first class. Ron says she walked into potions late, looking like that."

"Because of Reese? But he's an idiot."

"May I join in the conversation," Ginny asked as she sat down next to Malcolm.

"Sure. Dennis about trying to explain to me why Millicent Bulstrode likes Reese."

"That's easy. They think alike."

"You're joking."

"You've never talked to her? Hermione told me that she actually asked the meaning of a word, and the Professor suggested she use a dictionary."

"Let me guess. Millicent asked what good a second book would do if she couldn't read the first one."

"You have talked to her," Ginny said with a smile.

"No," Malcolm smiled back, "but I have talked to Reese."

[_Actually, that's a pretty scary thought. They could marry and have kids. Baby Reeses._]

"May I ask you a question," Ginny asked. What did happen at Beauxbatons?"

*

Francis waited patiently while the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Nob, is my mom there?"

"She's working at Tesco's. She should be home in an hour."

"I'll call back then. By the way, Happy Birthday. I'm sending you something in the mail. I hope you'll like it. Did you get anything from the other guys?"

"They got me adopted," Nob said proudly. "Now I'm your real brother."

"Mom went for that?"

"Yeah. Mom said since I'm human now, it wasn't a problem."

"Oh? Congratulations. Did she manage to get you into a school?"

"Kind off. Mom said the teacher was an idiot, so I'm going to a different school now, but I do a lot of stupid stuff. They want me to read a lot, but they also let me play with numbers. I'm learning something called Algebra."

"I remember that from high school. I think I failed it. Why are you studying Algebra?"

"Because I can."

Piama nudged Francis. "Who are you talking to?"

"Hold on Nob?" Francis said then turned to his wife. "I'm talking to the house elf. But it's really strange. He says he's human now and that he's been adopted. And he's going to special classes, like Malcolm did."

"I'm sorry I asked. Explain it to me later."

"I will. As soon as someone explains it to me." He turned back to the phone. "Nob, is anyone else there?"

"Dad and Dewey."

"Could you put Dad on?"

"DAD. He'll be right there."

"Francis?" Hal asked. "How are you. What happened to you?"

"I'm fine, Dad. I'm in Alaska. I'm working. And I got married."

"YOU WHAT? Francis, don't tell your mother about that. She still thinks you're too young to be off by yourself. How much do you need?"

"I don't need anything, Dad. I told you I was working. I was calling to let you know I'm fine."

"Well, give me your address. We'll try to send you something, BUT IT WON"T BE MUCH."

Francis paused. "Okay. I appreciate it. I sent a letter with Nob's present. It has my address and a picture of me."

"Just you?"

"And Piama."

"Who's Piama?"

"My wife. Dad, I told you I was married."

"Francis, you're not supposed to be married."

"FRANCIS IS MARRIED," Lois yelled as she walked into the kitchen. "I get off work early to hear this. Give me the phone." She put down her packages and grabbed the phone. "Francis, are you crazy? Did you get drunk or something. I warned you about that."

"No, Mom . . ."

"Don't no mom me, mister. I didn't suffer through forty hours of labor just so you could marry some tart you met in a bar."

"She's not some tart. I met her at work."

"So you conned some innocent office girl?"

"YOU'RE JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS, MOM. YOU ALWAYS DO THIS."

"I DO NOT, FRANCIS. I ALWAYS TRY TO HEAR YOU OUT, BUT YOU'RE ALWAYS DOING SOMETHING STUPID."

"ME? WHERE DO YOU THINK I GOT IT FROM? IT'S NO COINCIDENCE THAT MY BIRTHDAY AND YOUR WEDDING DAY ARE THE SAME DATE."

Lois took a deep breath. "That wasn't fair."

Francis calmed down. "Well, you always taught me that life isn't fair. We have to take what we can get."

"I guess I can just hope that you're happy."

"I am. Piama is a wonderful girl."

"At least she has a name. She isn't pregnant is she?"

"No, Mom."

"At least you got that part right." Lois sighed. "I've got to go. Is there anything else I need to know about?"

"I wanted to ask about Nob."

"Talk to Malcolm. He's the one responsible. I love you."

"I love you, Mom."

Francis hung up the phone. "That went well."

Piama stared at him. "You were yelling at your mother."

"I always yell at my mother. It's the only way I can talk to her. Don't worry. If you ever meet her, you'll like her."

Piama smirked. "And I should believe you?"

*

Malcolm sat back and relaxed in his usual fashion. The common room was empty because everyone had gone to the Quidditch match. He was stretched out on the couch in front of the fireplace when he heard the noise.

[_That has got to be Reese. There goes my day._]

"You waited for us," Reese said happily as he came out of the fireplace. Hector Filch was right behind him.

"No. I didn't wait for you. I'm not going."

Reese looked dumbfounded. "But it's Quidditch. It's the only good thing about being stuck at school all year long."

"Reese, it just so happens that the Gryffindor Keeper has threatened me with bodily harm if I show up. He's nervous enough as it is."

"That's Ron, our neighbor," Reese explained to Filch, then turned back to Malcolm. "Too bad. We're going."

"Go ahead. I'm staying here."

"Excuse me," Hector Filch said. "I was informed by your Headmaster that you would escort us to the Quidditch pitch. He will be very upset if we do not make our appearance."

[_It figures. Everybody wants to see me in trouble._]

"Fine," Malcolm grumbled. "Follow me."

Malcolm led the way only to run into Argus Filch outside the entrance to Gryffindor. Filch decided to join them.

"Come to watch the game, Hector?"

"The only chance I have to be free of those monsters at the school. You have it easy, Argus. You only have to clean up after them."

"Hurmph," Argus said, "At least you have some kind of authority. I have to beg and plead to have even half of them punished, and that hardly ever works."

"How sad," Hector said mockingly. "I can give any discipline I want, but the instant I do, I have the parents on the phone. 'How dare you.' 'We pay your salary.' Threats like that. I have a harder road to travel than you do."

"But they're only muggles. You don't have to worry about mislaid hexes, and the assorted nonsense I have to deal with."

[_Just to let you know, they went on like that the entire time we were walking to the match._]

"Professor Dumbledore?" Malcolm said as he reached the headmaster.

"Malcolm," Dumbledore said delightedly. "You decided to come, after all? That is wonderful."

Malcolm looked scornfully at Hector Filch, who smirked.

"I guess I'll go join the Gryffindors," Malcolm said evenly.

"I'll go with you," Reese said, and ruined Malcolm's day.

[_Now everyone will be glad I came._]

Malcolm walked to where the Gryffindors were sitting and found a place for himself and Reese.

"Malcolm!" Ginny said happily, "You came." Her face dropped. "And you brought Reese."

"It's his reward for doing so well at school," Malcolm said halfheartedly.

Seamus Finnigan found himself sitting next to Reese and decided to be polite. "Are you familiar with Quidditch?"

"Professionally," Reese answered authoritatively. "I don't know too much about English teams, and I've never seen an amateur game. Are they any good?"

"We won the cup two years ago, and it's mostly the same team. We have a new keeper."

Reese nodded. "I've seen Ron play. Does he still get nervous easily? You better hope Potter catches the snitch or it's loserville."

"Um, thanks."

"Hey, Draco," Reese yelled. Draco Malfoy spotted Reese sitting among the Gryffindors and gave a friendly wave. "He's my cousin, you know."

"I've heard," Seamus said evenly. "That's Slytherin over there. If you want to cheer him on, it would be best to do it from where his house is sitting."

"That's a good idea," Reese said. "Thanks."

As Reese left, Seamus said bitterly, "Don't mention it."

Malcolm smiled apologetically at Seamus and turned back to Ginny. "On a positive note, Reese is gone."

A short time later, Reese joined the Slytherins, and was talking happily with them. "Yeah, Ron's a nice guy and he's a good player, but he gets rattled easily."

"We know," one of the Slytherins said, "We even made a song about him. Do you want to hear?"

"Sure," Reese said, as he slipped an arm around Millicent Bulstrode. "I have no idea why I went to sit with the Gryffindors. Just because my brother does."

Millicent nodded. "It happens. Next time remember to follow the right brother."

Reese nodded. "I should have thought of that."

Reese watched as a very determined Ron Weasley went to guard the goals only to lose his composure when the Slytherins began to sing their song about Weasley the King.

*

The frowns of the Gryffindors turned to cheers when Harry caught the Snitch and won the match. Even Malcolm was cheering at the change of fortune, only to watch the turn of events. He paused as he watched Draco shouting something at Potter.

"Um, Ginny." Malcolm said as he pointed at the two teams. "Does anyone look angry to you?"

Ginny paused as she noticed what Malcolm was looking at. "Fred and George look to be getting angry. Malfoy's taunting them again."

"I just realized something. Draco knows about the new edict."

Ginny stared. Hermione, who noticed their change of attitude, listened in.

"What new edict?"

"Educational Decree Number Twenty Five. I delivered it yesterday."

Hermione frowned. "What does it say?"

"It gives Umbridge full charge over privileges and punishments. She can do whatever she wants, as long as she's given a reason."

Hermione and Ginny turned back to the pitch in time to see Harry punch Malfoy in the mouth. Hermione asked slowly, "Malcolm, how does Malfoy know?"

"The only person I told was Dumbledore. Who do you think told him?"

"Umbridge," Hermione answered grimly. "She's using the Slytherins in her scheme."

Malcolm watched as the chaos that erupted on the field was quelled and the players dispersed.

[_I could ask Dewey what is going on. He should know. Umbridge tells him everything._]

*

"That was stupid," Reese said when he was back in the Gryffindor common room. "They should have banned the keeper. He can't play, anyway."

Ginny ignored the jibe against her brother. "And you see nothing wrong with opposing teams fighting."

"It makes matches like this one a lot more interesting. You should watch hockey sometime. It's actually part of the game. I hate to say it, but Draco embarrassed me by just lying there like that. And none of his teammates helped either."

"Reese, you idiot," Malcolm yelled. "It was a set up. They planned it to happen that way so that Potter could be thrown off the team. The twins were thrown off as a bonus."

"Oh, they planned it?" Reese said smiling. "That's all right, then." He waved goodbye to the frowning crowd of Gryffindors and stepped into the fireplace. "OW!"

"I haven't thrown in the floo powder," Hector Filch snarled. By the time Reese left, everyone felt a little bit better.

"Malcolm," Hermione asked, "did you talk to Dewey?"

"Yeah, he said he's having a great time. And that the Giant Squid says Ron should learn to relax."

"I'm sure Ron will be happy to know that the Giant Squid is on his side."

Alicia frowned. "Maybe the Giant Squid would like to be the new seeker."

"He'd be better as a beater," Malcolm said.

*

Harry Potter frowned as he stared into the fireplace.

"Be careful. Reese has a tendency to show up."

He looked up to see Malcolm standing there in the otherwise deserted common room.

"Are you trying to cheer me up? Thanks to your cousin, I can never play Quidditch."

Malcolm sat down, uninvited. "It's only a game. It isn't the end of the world."

"It was something that I enjoyed doing," Harry said irritably. "Can you understand how I feel?"

"Like somebody clipped your wings."

"Coming from you, that is an appropriate phrase. Under the circumstances, how are you and your cousin getting along?"

"Not too well," Malcolm admitted. "The game isn't as fun as I thought it would be."

Harry laughed. "You think all of this is a game? I can tell you that what is happening is very real. I have to live with all of this. I don't have time to fly to London and deliver letters or spend Hallowe'en somewhere else and have everyone read about it in the Daily Prophet. And I don't have friends and relatives popping out of the fireplace whenever they feel like it."

"Did you know that Umbridge wanted to expel you?"

"Then why didn't she?"

"Dewey said that he told her it would be much more fun to keep you around. Don't ask me why, but Dewey likes you."

"I'm thrilled," Harry said angrily. "I think you should leave me alone now."

"Actually, you think I should never have come over here and bothered you, but you were being polite, I guess. I came here for a specific reason. You need to know that you didn't screw up."

"Really?"

"Next time, try to remember that when one person is against you, they have no problem getting help from other people who are against you."

"Then all of that was planned? Why am I not surprised?"

"You shouldn't be surprised. Dewey asked Umbridge last night to let you stay. They knew what they were going to do before the match ever started. You would have been thrown off the team anyway. At least you got to hit Draco."

Harry stared at Malcolm briefly. "That doesn't change anything. You know that."

Malcolm nodded. "But now you know you have friends in unexpected places."

Harry smiled. "Malcolm, you have a very strange family."

"Yeah, sometimes that's the only good thing about it." 


	24. The Rest of the Year

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: THE REST OF THE YEAR

  


"Hagrid is back."

The news flowed through the school and reached Malcolm's ears as he sat down to eat breakfast. He had managed to avoid the news by the expedient of not being very popular. After his brother's remarks about Ron Weasley's skill, his cousin's remarks to Potter, and his own winning personality, he spent a quiet night by himself.

[_If you call several dozen hooting owls as quiet. At least no one bothers me . . . much._]

"Are you excited," EJ asked as he told Malcolm the news.

"Why? Hagrid doesn't care for me, and I still find him hard to take. At least with Grubbly-Plank I was learning something."

"But Hagrid is fun," Amber insisted. "He always comes up with the unusual."

"Yeah," Malcolm agreed, "Like the flame ending skreets or whatever they were. I still have the burn marks."

Neville snorted when he heard the remark. "I still have burn marks, too, but I think Hagrid has a serious problem. Have you seen his injuries? He must have been in a terrible fight."

"Did he win?" Malcolm asked.

"Malcolm, some of us like Hagrid and we're concerned about him."

"Well don't forget Professor Hem Hem. She's concerned about people like Hagrid as well. She doesn't like half-breeds. You heard what she did to Lupin. He can't get a job to save his life."

EJ said something thoughtful. "She doesn't mind the fact that your parents adopted a house elf."

"She minds," Malcolm pointed out. "It's just that she has bigger fish to fry. I know she's looking for an excuse to take over Dumbledore's job. Once she does that, she'll start dealing with all the little things she doesn't like."

"You keep saying that," Amber told him. "Why aren't you worried?"

"Because I planned ahead. Nob is like family to me, to all of us. When I realized what would probably happen, I worked it so that Nob would be legally part of the family, as far as normal people are concerned."

"But that means nothing as far as the wizarding world is concerned."

"Maybe."

Amber shook her head. "I've talked about this with Ginny and especially Hermione. All of us know how she feels about house elves. Even she admits that there is nothing you can do, because Nob is an elf regardless of what he looks like. Why won't you admit that?"

"Because Nob is what he appears to be," Malcolm insisted.

[_And all I have to do is convince about fifty people who couldn't care less about anything I have to say._]

"All I need is my day in court," Malcolm insisted.

*

Malcolm was sitting in the common room trying to write his weekly letter home when Ginny Weasley walked up to him.

"Malcolm, could you stand up for a minute?"

"Sure, Why?" Malcolm asked as he rose to his feet.

Ginny put her arms around his shoulder and kissed him on the lips. When she was done, she said, "Thank you, Malcolm," and walked away.

[_I don't know what that was about, but that was wonderful_.]

As Malcolm finished the letter, Amber Dowling, who was a third year Gryffindor, walked into the common room. She spotted Malcolm and walked over to him. Before he could say anything, she grabbed his head, pulled him to her, and kissed him. When she was done, she looked wistfully in the air, nodded to herself, and walked away with a polite thank you.

Malcolm wore a quizzical smile as he watched her walk to her dorm. Shaking his head, he picked up his letter and headed to the owlery. As he arrived, Lavender Brown was coming out.

"Oh, Malcolm. I'm glad I ran into you. I need to ask you a favor."

Hesitantly, Malcolm answered, "Sure. What is it?"

"This," Lavender said as she put her arms around Malcolm's shoulders and kissed him. When she broke off the kiss, she smiled at him saying, "Ginny was right about you, Malcolm."

Malcolm stared as Lavender walked off, until she disappeared around a corner.

[_What did she mean by that? What was Ginny right about?_]

Happily confused, Malcolm owled his letter and headed off to class, only to be stopped by Cho Chang, from Ravenclaw.

"Let me guess. You want to kiss me."

Cho Chang laughed lightly and nodded her head. She then leaned down and kissed him.

"Thank you, Malcolm."

"Did you like it?"

"It was exactly what I expected," Cho said, giving Malcolm another small laugh and a wave of her hand as she went on her way."

Malcolm walked into Arithmancy class and sat down, wondering who was going to be next.

[_Hey, maybe somebody slipped me a love potion. That would explain what's going on._]

"Hello, Malcolm," Hermione Granger said as she sat next to him. "Could I ask you a question?"

"You want to kiss me. Right?"

"Why would I want to do that? Ginny told me that kissing you would be like kissing my brother. I wanted to ask if you've seen Ron. He missed breakfast."

*

Malcolm looked up at the calender from his table in the common room. It was already the fifth of December, and his plans had come to a complete halt. He was looking through the legal books for precedents and found one he didn't want. It was from 1682. A senile witch had died and left a legacy to her house elf. It was ruled that a house elf was the property of the estate and could not be considered as part of the household, as a servant could. The house elf was confiscated and given to another owner.

That meant that, regardless of what Nob appeared to be, the Wizards Council would consider him as a house elf. Any effort for a real adoption would give the council the legal right to take Nob away.

[_That's what I'm trying to avoid. I wouldn't be so worried but Umbridge was the last person to take this book out. I was right about her all along._]

"Friend Malcolm?"

"Dobby? What are you doing here?"

"Decorating. Dobby decorated Friend Harry's . . . uh.

Malcolm smiled. "The place Harry goes to that I know nothing about."

Dobby smiled in relief. "Friend Malcolm is kind to poor Dobby. But why is Friend Malcolm so sad."

"You know about Nob."

Dobby inched backward. "Dobby knows what Nob did. All the elves at school know. Friend Malcolm, a house elf does not do what Nob did. Dobby is frightened by what may happen because of this."

Malcolm stared at Dobby and his smile became real. "Dobby, can you repeat that but without any emotion in your voice."

Dobby looked quizzically but began to repeat tonelessly, "Dobby is frightened . . ."

"No. No. No. Before that."

"A House elf does not do what Nob did."

"THAT'S IT," Malcolm yelled, scaring some timid looking second-years who were sitting by the window.. He grabbed Dobby and kissed him. "You're a genius."

"Friend Malcolm is scaring Dobby," the elf said as he backed away.

"Dobby, I had it wrong. I've been trying to prove that Nob is human because he looks human, but that's wrong. It isn't that Nob is what he appears to be. It's that Nob is not what he appears to be. He can't be a house elf because he did something that house elves don't do."

"Nob is not a house elf?"

Malcolm's mind was in a whirl. "No, he isn't. He never was. And I can prove it. I need to talk to Dewey."

Dobby stared at Malcolm as the boy ran out of the common room. He looked over at the second years and shrugged his shoulder. One of the second years stared at the door and said, "I wish they would stop yelling like that." 

*

"YOU WHAT?" Dewey yelled causing several people to turn their heads. "You're crazy, Malcolm. The only thing I've got in this family is that I'm the youngest. That fake adoption was one thing but this is just stupid and mean."

"Shut up, Dewey. This is important. And you know why."

Dewey stormed away angrily but stopped ten feet away and turned around, shouting. "Nob is just a stupid house elf. That's all that he is. If you want an adoption hearing, you'll get one. I'm talking to Aunt Narcissa."

"I want you to talk to Umbridge."

"I'll talk to her next."

Dewey walked off angrily in the direction of the owlery, while a dozen students of various houses stared at Malcolm.

"Adopting a house elf?" "What a joke." "Who's the genius?" "Nutter's abound in Gryffindor."

[_That went well._]

*

"Hem Hem," Umbridge said a few days later as she walked up to Malcolm at breakfast. "I understand your family wants to apply for adoption. I've arranged for both hearings to take place next Wednesday, before the end of term. That way you can return before the holiday and retrieve your belongings."

"Both hearings?"

"Your brother will explain, you horrid boy." Umbridge sneered. "You have finally lost your usefulness to me." She began to walk away and stopped. "I visited my daughter over this last weekend. Here is a letter from her, and from that little tart you toyed with." She threw two envelopes on his breakfast plate and walked away."

"Two hearings," Ginny managed to ask.

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "I'll have to ask Dewey."

EJ snorted. "I'd be careful. I heard all about the last time you asked him something."

"Hello, Love," Draco said tonelessly as he walked over to the Gryffindor table.

"If it isn't marvelous Malfoy," Ginny said sarcastically.

Ignoring her, Draco leaned over to talk to Malcolm. "I need to talk to you. You have to stop your brother. Have him tell Mother he changed his mind."

"First of all, what are you talking about?"

"Malcolm," Draco said testily, "Dewey has talked Mother into agreeing to adopt him to save him from the embarrassment of having a house elf as a brother."

"And your mom fell for that?"

"Your family has applied to the wizarding council to adopt Nob?"

"Yeah."

"And you find nothing wrong with that?"

"No. You saw Nob. You know what he looks like."

Draco stared wide eyed at Malcolm. "If you try to adopt a house elf you will be the laughing stock of the wizarding world."

"Yeah."

"What's going on?"

"It's simple. I get to have Nob as a brother, and you get Dewey. Regardless of how you look at it, I win."

"That was cruel, Malcolm. I'll get you for that."

"Next time, don't ask me to apologize for you."

Draco paused, unsure of whether to grin or frown. He opted on walking away.

Malcolm looked at the people watching him. "At least it's going to be an interesting day.

"It is indeed," Severus Snape said from behind him. "Malcolm, you are supervising the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes today?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Meet me in my office after your first class. Professor Dumbledore has decided that I must have a talk with you, and he won't let me put it off any longer."

"You're very popular today," Ginny said. "Why does Snape want to talk to you?"

"I don't know. He said it was something he kept putting off so it can't be too important. I'll find out in a couple of hours."

*

"Dear Malcolm," Malcolm read as he opened the first letter. He sat in the empty DADA classroom and smiled. "Mother has told me about your loose morals and I must respect her request not to see you again. I have thrown away all my mementos of you and I will start my life with a clean slate. I already have a prospective boyfriend that Mother approves of. Love, Camilla."

[_Except for the closing, it was what I expected. Camilla managed to get her mother to approve of somebody. Although she did it by comparing him with me._]

Malcolm opened up the next letter and found tear stains on it. He read with trepidation what it had to say. It wasn't pretty. From the way it read, Gabrielle had listened to, and believed, whatever it was that Professor Umbridge had said about him. It closed with the line, "I never want to see or hear from you again."

When he finally looked up, Professor Snape was standing there. "You were supposed to come to my office. I don't appreciate having to search for you."

"I'm sorry, Professor. I got caught up reading my mail."

Snape sighed as he sat down on the edge of the desk. "Well, we should get this over with. The headmaster felt that you were old enough, and that I should, for some reason, be the one to explain the facts of life to you."

"The facts of life?"

"Yes. Essentially, what happens when a man and a woman, um, get together."

Malcolm crumpled the letter in his hand and stood up. "I know what happens." he said bitterly. "The guy tries to be nice and the girl leads hm on, telling him that everything is wonderful. Then when she gets what she wants she dumps him like a trash bag."

"Well, that isn't . . ."

"No, that isn't all. If she feels like it, she'll come around and say it was all a big mistake, and she'll get the guy all happy again, but just let anybody say anything bad, and she'll throw it in the guy's face without even bothering for an explanation."

"Malcolm, That's all . . ."

Yeah. That's all men are here for. Women just lead us around for whatever they want, and drop us whenever they get bored, because they know that all they have to do is smile and we'll come crawling back because they know we can't help it. They just tease us and make our lives miserable for the fun of it because they know they can get away with it. And if we ever object to anything, it's because we're the ones who are wrong. You just can't win with women, regardless of what you do."

Malcolm sighed and plopped back into his chair, the crushed letter still in his hand. Severus Snape stood up and straightened his robes. "It seems to me you understand the situation fairly well, Malcolm. I'll tell the headmaster he doesn't have to worry."

"Thanks," came the sullen reply.

*

Malcolm sat through lunch and was still in the DADA classroom when the class change came and went. He looked up in mild interest when he suddenly walked into the room.

"You are a hard person to find, even when I ask people where I am."

"Tonks?"

"Your welcome, Malcolm," she said as she changed back into herself. "I received your message and came as fast as I could. I did have to stop by the French Consul's office to pick up a two letters for you."

Malcolm stared in disbelief when he saw that the letters were from Camilla and Gabrielle. "I"M AN IDIOT."

"I appreciate your sentiments, but could you keep it down. This classroom is supposed to be empty."

"Uh, no it isn't. This is the Defense Class."

Tonks arched an eyebrow, then took a misstep as she went to sit down in one of the chairs. "Sorry."

"It's alright. It must be hard, always changing shapes. You're never one size long enough to get used to it."

Tonks smiled. "That was very diplomatic. Most people claim that I'm just clumsy."

"I just remember how it was when I first changed into an owl. I could barely walk, much less fly."

"That's why I like you, Malcolm. You always try to understand the people around you . . .before you try to manipulate them."

"I'm only asking a favor. You can always say no. Besides, I didn't expect for you to actually show up."

"Writing letters to Hogwarts, or anywhere, is no longer a safe occupation. Coming here in person was the only real option. What did you want?"

"It's like this." And Malcolm explained his plan to her.

*

Francis woke up feeling wonderful. He kissed Piama good morning, and dressed warmly to go to work. He knocked on the door to Ralph's cabin and walked in. Everything was boxed up.

"What's going on?"

Ralph looked up in surprise. "You haven't heard? They finished logging the forest. This place is going to be a ghost town. I decided it was time to accept my daughter's invitation to move in with her family. I'm moving to Winnipeg." He reached into his pocket. "Here's your wages and something extra."

Francis counted the money. "Two hundred bucks? That's not much for Alaska."

"Here." Ralph handed him two more pouches. "That's about twenty Galleons, and the other pouch is floo powder. Have you heard of it?"

"Yeah. My brother used it to go back to school."

"This fireplace should still be hooked up to the system. If you know someplace to go, you can get there cheaply at least. Sorry for the short notice."

"Thanks," Francis said in a stunned voice. He walked back to his own cabin to tell Piama the news. There were people from the reservation already there.

Piama saw Francis and handed him a piece of paper. "This is terrible, Francis. What are we going to do. The Tribal leaders sold the Reservation to some strip miners, and this is all I get."

One of the tribal leaders pointed out, "She gets a share for being a member of the tribe, but she doesn't get a full share because she moved off the reservation." He added as an after thought, "Sorry that it can't be more."

As they were left alone, Piama looked at Francis in concern. "What do we do? It's almost Christmas, and we won't have a home after tomorrow."

Francis looked at the check. "This is still a pretty good amount of money. We could get started someplace else on this, plus what Ralph gave me. How about this. You always dared me to prove that magic was real. We'll get up as early as possible tomorrow. We'll make a last stop at Ralph's place, and from there we'll visit my parents."

"But that will take forever. Do you know how much it costs to fly?"

Francis smiled. "We won't be flying. We'll be using magic. We'll go directly to the Ministry of Magic in London and find out exactly where my Mom and Dad moved to, and then we can go there. We can celebrate Christmas with my family."

"Um, Francis. You did tell me the truth about your family?"

"Yeah."

"Can't you come up with a better plan?"


	25. Adoption

A/N I just wanted to point out that Phoenix Flight's impression was correct. I even thought it could be clarified, but I always get the impression that when I write about Malcolm I should leave room for doubt, just in case he's lying.

I would like to congratulate Romm on spending two days reading the entire series. I only wish I could find the time. I'm more like VMorticia. I read when I get a chance, and it's note always on a regular basis. I'm surprised I found the time to write this.

To everyone else, I do want to thank you for reading and reviewing.

  
  


CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: ADOPTION

  


"It's true," Neville insisted. "Harry had a vision about Ron's dad. Something must have happened. He yelled that Ron's dad was attacked in his sleep."

The Gryffindors listened as Neville Longbottom related the events of the night before, with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas nodding at every detail. Everyone in the common room looked amazed, including Hermione Granger, who knew as much as any of them. She was asked if she had anything to add but was forced to admit that she didn't, yet. That was when Professor McGonagall walked in.

"Professor," Hermione quickly asked. "Is he, I mean . . . Harry . . ."

McGonagall smiled sympathetically. "From what I was told, they found Arthur Weasley in plenty of time. He is recovering at St. Mungo's where his family and Mr. Potter are visiting him. Under the circumstances they will be missing the last two days of term."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said gratefully, "for coming to tell us."

"You're welcome, Miss Granger. But that is not why I am here. Your house mate, Malcolm, has an appointment with the Wizengamut. I am here to fetch him. Malcolm, if you will come with me."

As Malcolm rose up, Hermione reached over and grabbed his hand. "Good luck. I mean that."

"Thanks."

Malcolm followed Professor McGonagall to the main entrance where Dewey was waiting with Draco and Professor Snape, but had to ask, "Why are we here? I thought Professor Dumbledore was taking us."

"There has been a change of plans. Professor Hagrid will be your escort."

"Great," Malcolm said sarcastically.

"Great," Dewey said enthusiastically.

"This is Great," Reese said as he walked up with Hagrid. "I was supposed to have this major test first thing this morning, and the principle comes in and says I have to be excused. And I didn't even bother to study. Am I lucky or what?"

[_I not going to bother explaining about make-up exams. I'll let it be a surprise._]

"I'm happy for you," Professor McGonagall said in a droll tone. "Professor Hagrid, here is the portkey. It is set to activate in two minutes."

"Thank ye, Professor," Hagrid said with a big grin as he took the large frying pan. "Now everyone get a good grip." He glared at Draco. "Everyone."

Draco reluctantly grabbed hold with a sneer. "It's your fault, Malcolm. How did you ever get this brainstorm?" Then he yelped as the portkey activated and he felt his navel being yanked through his stomach. Seconds later, they appeared in the reception area of the Ministry of Magic.

"Soon we're going to be brothers," Dewey said happily.

"Not while I still have my wand," Draco threatened.

"See, he's going to treat you just like we do, you little jerk."

"That's true, Malcolm, but I'll be a rich little jerk."

Malcolm sneered at Dewey. "I'll be back. I'm going to find Mom and Dad."

*

"Are you ready," Francis asked.

Piama stared at him. "All of our belongings are packed in two suitcases and we're about to walk into a fireplace. How do I get ready for something like that."

"Just relax, honey. It doesn't hurt at all."

"Just do it. I still don't believe anything will happen."

"Watch this," Francis said as he grabbed a pinch of floo powder and threw it into the fire. The flames immediately turned bright green, and Francis called out clearly, "The Ministry of Magic, London." He grabbed the suitcases while Piama clutched his arm and they stepped forward into the fire.

*

"Malcolm," Lois called out as they spotted him coming towards them. "Should I ask you now if you're crazy or wait until later."

"Mom, this will work. I have it all planned out. Where's Dewey?"

"He's at school. You have two hours to get this done or he's going to come home to an empty house. The Weasleys weren't home."

"Mr. Weasley had an accident. They're all visiting him at St. Mungo's. The hospital's not that far from here if you want to visit."

"Hi, Malcolm."

"Hey, Nob. Are you excited?"

"Is it really going to happen?"

"I promised, didn't I?"

"Thanks, Malcolm."

"That's very touching," Hal said, "but we're running a little late."

"Everybody's around the corner. C'mon."

Malcolm led them to the rest of the group, then led the way to the Council Chamber where they found a scowling Lucius Malfoy and a beaming Narcissa Malfoy waiting for them.

"There's my little Cherubim," Narcissa called out and made it a point to give Dewey a big hug.

Lucius Malfoy leaned over and whispered in Malcolm's ear. "I don't know what your scheme is you little rat but if I get stuck with that brother of yours I will make you regret it."

"Well, we want to adopt Nob," Malcolm whispered back. "If you can do anything to help us, I'll guarantee Dewey stays with us as well."

"That is blackmail."

"Yeah, it is. Because you won't tell your wife no."

Lucius nodded. "You are right. When she gets like this there is no stopping her. It's a deal."

Meanwhile Narcissa was fawning over her soon to be son. "You could try it, just for practice."

"Okay . . . Mom," Dewey said as he blushed furiously.

"You don't have a problem with this, Lois?" Narcissa asked.

Lois smiled. "I only want my kids to be happy. If you want to take him off my hands, and he wants to go, I'll even bring over his clothes."

"They're ready for you," Percy Weasley said as he opened the door to the chamber, and the two families, accompanied by Rubeus Hagrid, entered the council chamber."

*

"Hi," Francis said to the clerk. "I'm looking for my parents."

"Nice outfit," the clerk said.

"We just came in from Alaska," Piama said. "It's much warmer here."

"It's barely above freezing outside."

"Above freezing? We must have come during a heat wave."

The clerk nodded with a fake smile. "Take the elevator to the eighth floor. It will be Courtroom Three."

"Excuse me," Francis asked, "I was looking for my parents . . ."

"They're in Courtroom Three. Or at least they are supposed to be there in five minutes. The elevators are over there. And you can leave your luggage at the claims counter. Thank you, enjoy your visit to London. Next, Please."

"Oy," the green haired man said, "It's those kids again . . ."

"Francis, this is strange," Piama said as they walked past the fireplaces, and around the people who would suddenly appear. "I know you said magic, but this doesn't seem real."

"I know. Magic is like that. Just accept whatever you see and you're usually okay."

Piama nodded as they stepped into the elevator.

"Hem. Hem. You are not dressed properly for visiting the ministry. This is the government, not a costume party."

Francis glared at the rude toad like lady. "Listen, ten minutes ago, I was in the middle of Alaska. I don't need any of your smart remarks."

"Americans," Umbirdge said in disgust. "All of you seem despicable."

"So says the Wicked Witch of the West," Piama commented. "Lady, why don't you just climb on your broom and fly back to your swamp."

The elevator stopped on the Eighth floor and the lady stormed out. Francis and Piama followed her out and paused to let her walk away. They watched in surprise as she walked through a door with a large number Three next to it. Francis looked at Piama and shrugged his shoulder. They followed her into the courtroom.

"I have said for everyone to come to order," Cornelius Fudge said. "You two, in the furry coats, this is not an open court."

"We're here to . . ." Francis began.

"FRANCIS," Lois called out. "What are you doing here?"

"I lost my job and Piama and I came to pay you a visit. They told us you were here."

Lois looked at Piama, smiled, then ignored her. "Well, be quiet."

"I'm being adopted for real," Nob said as he ran up to Francis.

"Nob? You look . . . great." He knelt down and Nob gave him a hug.

"May we continue," Cornelius Fudge asked from his seat at the dias while two dozen wizards and witches voiced their agreement. "The first case is to decide is the ridiculous notion of adopting a house elf."

"Excuse me, Sir. Malcolm said. "Nob is not a house elf."

Fudge snorted and several others, including Umbridge, laughed out loud.

"Tough house," Piama whispered to Francis.

Fudge looked at Malcolm and said, "Do you expect me to believe that this elf is human just because he looks human."

"No, Sir. He isn't human either. At least he wasn't."

"Hem. Hem," Umbridge began. "This boy is all nonsense. You should dismiss this case outright and get to the important issue."

"This case is not unimportant," Malcolm yelled. "It's only unpopular because it doesn't fit nicely into her idea of what's proper. If Nob is human, it is because he wants to be, and not because he used to appear to be a house elf."

Fudge frowned. "Professor Umbridge is right. You are a most impertinent young man."

"I am not," Malcolm insisted. "And I can prove it."

The minister raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "You are not an impertinent young man?"

"No."

"You mean to tell me that you are a responsible young man?"

"No, I'm not that either."

"Malcolm," Lois said carefully.

"Mom, I know what I'm doing."

"Perhaps you should listen to your mother," Fudge insisted.

"She's not my mother, Minister Fudge. That is the point of what I am trying to say. This case is not what it appears to be, and if you insist that it is, you are missing the point."

At this point, a black owl flew in and delivered a letter to Malcolm, who let the owl sit on his shoulder.

"Minister, this letter proves that we are dealing with unique circumstances. You must accept, first of all, that I am deceiving you by being here."

Amelia Bones, who had remained quiet up to this point, stood up and walked to Malcolm, taking the letter from his hand. She opened it and read the contents carefully. "This is certified copy of a document that states that a man appeared in the town of Huang Tu in China, after he had died, yet he was now seen as being alive. The certification states that this incident occurred in 723 A.D. Malcolm what is the meaning of this?"

"It's the most recent documentation of Nob's condition. It's also related to the reason that I can claim I'm not me."

Amelia Bones shared her colleagues' incredulity. "Malcolm. You are obviously you."

"If I prove I'm not, will you actually listen to the evidence with an open mind?"

Fudge looked at Umbridge who gave him a laughing smile. "Go ahead young man, prove you are someone else."

Malcolm smiled. "That's easy enough," he said as his hair turned bubblegum pink. He grew taller and more feminine. "Wotcher, Boss," Tonks said when she assumed her usual shape.

Everyone, including Malcolm's family, was surprised. The only exceptions were Dewey, Hagrid and the black owl.

Amelie Bones spoke first. "Nymphadora Tonks, what is the meaning of this?"

"Just doing Malcolm a favor. This case rests on the fact that what we think is real might not be real. Right, Malcolm?"

The owl jumped off her shoulder and landed on the his feet as a black haired boy. Tonks took out her wand and cast a cancelling spell. Malcolm's hair turned back to its normal color.

"Sirs, and Madams," Malcolm said. "I apologize for the ruse, but I needed to make a simple point. This is not a simple case, although the point is simple. My contention is that Nob is human but that he wasn't human. He was a house elf but only because he could be. I don't know what he was before he became a house elf."

Hearing his cue, Hagrid shouted out. "I'll be. Old Dippet was right."

"What is the meaning of this," Umbridge shouted back.

"He's a changling," Hagrid said happily. "An' the first one ever found in Europe."

"And," Tonks added, "the first known case in over 1200 years."

"A changling?' Fudge asked in surprise.

"Think of Tonks," Malcolm said quickly. "She's a Metamorphmagus. She can take the form of any person. I'm an animagus. I can take the form of an animal. Nob is the next step removed. He can be anything he wants to be . . . and because he met my family, he wants to be human. And this is my point. With someone like Nob, he is what he wants to be. He has even passed a blood test by a muggle doctor. It showed no abnormalities. Madam Pomfrey has examined him and says he is definitely human. I also have a report from a respected Doctor at St. Mungo's who did a more thorough test and came to the same conclusion."

"That's Impossible," Fudge said, and several others agreed.

"Nob is here. It can't be impossible."

"Look," Lois said pointedly. "You can see Nob. You can see he's as human as you or me. All we want is to give him a family he is a real part of."

"We need to discuss this," Fudge said weakly. "Will all of you wait outside?"

Percy Weasley got out of his seat and escorted the group from the courtroom. Once outside, Lucius Malfoy cornered Malcolm. "They're not going to accept this. You know that."

"What do you mean?" Lois demanded.

"It's a convincing argument. It may even be true, but Malcolm is telling them something that scares them. They'll refuse to believe it, by majority vote."

"Like they refuse to believe Voldemort has returned," Malcolm whispered pointedly.

Lucius smiled. "I can fix this for you, Malcolm, but remember your promise. They won't believe your 'truth' so I'm going to give them a lie they can live with."

Everyone watched as Lucius Malfoy drew himself up to his full, arrogant height, and walked back into the courtroom. Ten minutes later, the door opened and Percy Weasley ushered everyone back inside. Lucius Malfoy was grinning from ear to ear. Dolores Umbridge was sneering happily. Fudge was sitting silently. Amelia Bones stood up and told Malcolm and Nob to approach the bench.

"The first order of business is the adoption of the boy, Nob. By my order, all previous testimony is stricken from the record and is to be discarded. The following Facts will be entered into evidence. The family in question formerly had a house elf by the name of Nob. The elf was freed and all trace of him was lost at the time the family home was destroyed. The family appeared in England with a human child they called Nob, for the simple expedient that it was the only name they had registered. The why of this is lost in the American legal system except for the fact that they had approved adoption, a fact that was recognized as legitimate by the muggle authorities of this government. Because the principle parents of this family are muggles we acknowledge the legitimacy of that adoption. This court has no need, or cause to make a judgement in that case, except to ask one question. Nob, what do you want?"

Nob looked at the lady with a sense of fear. He began stepping backward until he found himself next to Lois, who took his hand and smiled.

"I just want to go home with my mom."

Amelia Bones smiled. "This case is dismissed." She paused in amusement as Malcolm's family went wild with joy. Everyone was grabbing Nob and hugging him. Except Dewey.

"As to the next case," Amelia Bones said, and everyone quieted, "The Malfoy family has petitioned this court for custody of their nephew, Dewey, on the grounds that the actions of his own family have proven to be too great an embarrassment."

"Madam Commissioner," Lucius Malfoy said. "I think it would be best to dismiss this case as well. If anything, this family has proven itself willing to go to any lengths to keep itself together. This is clearly not an act to embarrass anyone. Isn't that right," he turned around and glared, "Malcolm?"

"Oh, yes," Malcolm said affectionately. "Uncle Lucius couldn't have phrased it any better."

[_Umbridge is furious. She only agreed to propose this hearing to have Dewey taken away from us._]

Amelia Jones raised her gavel. "Then I declare this case . . ."

"NO," Dewey yelled. "I don't want to stay with them. I want to be a Malfoy."

"Dewey," Lois yelled in shock.

"What are you doing, Dewey," Malcolm yelled. "We straightened everything out."

Dewey glared angrily at Malcolm. "I'm tired of all of this. I'm tired of having to share everything. I'm tired of eating cereal because you and Reese steal all the waffles. I want to live with Aunt Narcissa. I want to be rich. I WANT MY OWN ROOM."

Narcissa began to say something but Lucius looked at her pointedly.

[_I don't know what that look meant, but I think it worked._]

Instead, Narcissa knelt in front of Dewey. "I'm sorry, little pumpkin. We can't adopt you just because we have money (although I do like the idea) but why don't we do this. Since you can't go home for the holiday because of your condition, why don't you spend the two weeks with us. It will be a little taste of what could have been."

"Okay," Dewey said smiling and Narcissa hugged him while Lucius and Draco both groaned.

"Do you mind?" Lucius asked Lois hopefully.

"I think it will be fun," Lois said, and smiled as Lucius gave a small whimper of hopelessness.

"What's his condition?" Piama asked and Francis shrugged.

"Oh, he's already waiting for us at home," Reese said.

Francis looked at Malcolm.

"I'll explain later."

"Excuse me," One of the wizards of the court said. "Before all of you leave. This boy you call Nob. That is the name of a house elf. That cannot be his real name. We need his real name for the record."

Hal looked at Lois, who shrugged her shoulders.

"But everyone calls me Nob," Nob said pleadingly."

"Oh, Um, Norbert," Hagrid said suddenly. "His name's Norbert. Nob is his nickname."

"And his last name?"

"The same as ours," Lois answered while Nob grinned proudly.

"Thank you." the wizard said and made a note of it for the records.

As everyone happily left, except for the two male Malfoys who merely left, Malcolm looked at Hagrid. "Norbert?"

"Had to say somethin'," Hagrid muttered. "Had a pet by tha' name."

"You named my son after a pet?" Lois said in surprise.

"What kind of pet?" Hal asked out of curiosity.

"He was a Norwegian Ridgeback."

"A what? Is that a type of dog or something?"

Hagrid couldn't help but smile. "He was a dragon."

"I'm named after a dragon?" Nob asked wide eyed.

"And a thumpin' good one at that," Hagrid noted. He saw Lois smirk at the thought and added. "If the tyke needs a godfather, I know someone big enough ter handle the job."

Malcolm almost laughed when his mom hugged Hagrid.

"Wotcher, Malcolm," Tonks said as she ruffled his hair. "It was a good plan. I'm still surprised it worked."

Hal paused when he heard that. "Malcolm, you planned all of this."

"Yeah. I knew if I confused them, they would decide to talk it over. And I counted on Uncle Lucius to know how the Minister thinks. I knew he'd come up with a good excuse. He really hates Dewey."

"He does not," Narcissa said warmly.

"Wait a minute," Lois said, "then why did Dewey demand to be adopted?"

"That was for Professor Umbridge. I knew we could manipulate her into asking for the hearing so I made her hate me. Then Dewey made it a point to tell her he hated me as well. She was willing to listen to anything Dewey said.

To everyone's surprise, Draco started to laugh. "You said that on the first day of school. You could make her do anything if she trusted you. I thought you meant YOU. You had her trust Dewey."

[_I have to break the news to him._]

"You should know, Draco. Dewey can't lipread."

Draco smiled. "I'll have two weeks to pay him back."

"Lipread?" Lucius asked Draco, but Draco said it was nothing.

"I think that was clever of Dewey," Narcissa said, hugging him again. "I'm proud of the way you manipulated that vile woman."

"Thanks, Aunt Narcissa," Dewey said as he blushed.

"Then Dewey didn't mean anything he said in there?" Lois asked.

"None of it," Malcolm assured her.

"Yes I did," Dewey said, but they were no longer listening to him.

"It's time to go," Lois called out.

"Goodbye, cousin Draco," Nob said warmly as he hugged the Slytherin.

[_No? He didn't?_]

"Nob," Draco said in annoyance as he became Malcolm.

"I'm sorry," Nob cried. "I didn't mean to do it again."

"Again?" Lucius asked as he looked at Draco/Malcolm. "Son, why don't you explain it all to me when we get home?"

"Francis," Piama noted, "I do believe in magic. And you have a very strange family."

"Stranger than yours?"

Piama paused. "Almost."

*

"You're not worried, Mom?" Malcolm asked. "About the Malfoys taking Dewey with them."

"Not at all. That Narcissa can't believe anything wrong about Dewey, and he'll make Lucius miserable as a result. I almost wish I could be there to watch them."

"I'll ask Draco to take pictures."

"I've got to go, Malcolm," Tonks said. "I've got my own work to do." She shook hands with Lois. "It was nice meeting you."

Lois had to ask. "You can change into anyone?"

"I can."

"That's amazing. I thought you were really Malcolm. I didn't even realize you were a girl."

Tonks laughed. "The hard part was mimicking his voice. And I could have been Malcolm as a girl but that would have ruined the effect." She smiled and her form changed. "I guess if I showed up like this, I would have told them I was Mallory or something."

"The daughter I always wanted," Lois said wistfully.

"That . . . is scary," Reese said.

"Oh, you look so cute like that," Hal said. "Malcolm, stand next to your sister while I take a picture."

"Dad," Malcolm said with embarrassment as he was forced to stand next to Tonks. He spent the next minute blinking after the flash went off in his eyes. When he recovered, Tonks was standing there, still as Mallory, but with the pink hair. "Have fun. I'll see you for Christmas. Your Mum invited me."

"Great. And thanks for helping out, Tonks."

"Your Welcome," she said with a laugh and walked back to work.

The girl in the furry jacket was looking at him.

"You're Piama."

"And you're Malcolm. Francis was right about your family. You are an interesting group."

"Are you happy you married Francis."

Piama smiled. "I suppose I am. He told me I would never be bored. And he was right."

"Do you like the family."

"The truth? Your mother doesn't like me. It seems I married her son and she doesn't want him to be married."

"Yeah. That's Mom. She doesn't like things she can't control."

"Did you just compliment me?"

[_Hey, she is smart. She picked up on that right away._]

"On behalf of the rest of us, Welcome to the family."

"Thanks. But that lady said Dewey had a condition and he couldn't go home."

Malcolm smirked. "Yeah, there's two of him, and we can't let them meet. And when we get home, don't let Dewey know you've already met him. It'll only confuse him."

Piama nodded. She definitely wasn't bored by any of this.


	26. The Holidays

A/N: Congratulations to Colibi on your new house. And to Black Ice, you wanted to know what happens next? We celebrate.

  
  


CHAPTER TWENTYSIX: THE HOLIDAYS

  


The small group went slowly down the walk, singing Christmas Carols. They would pause when people stepped out of their houses to listen, and occasionally someone would join them. They walked down the street, turned onto the lane, and carefully avoided another road, where a different carol was being sung.

"ARE YOU BOYS CRAZY OR WHAT. DON'T YOU KNOW THAT TOMORROW IS CHRISTMAS? START SHOWING SOME PEACE AND JOY OR I'M SENDING ALL THE PRESENTS BACK."

"Honey, you don't have to yell like that. We're all in the same room. LOOK, you're standing under mistletoe. You know what that means?"

"Stop it, Hal. I'm not in the mood."

[_Mom's like this every Christmas. She has this idea that we could pretend to be good at least one day a year. That's why I'm her favorite son. I pretend to be good all the time._]

Lois looked at everyone gathered in the room. Only Nob was smiling. "Why are you smiling? I just yelled at you for making a mess."

"He does that when he's scared," Dewey explained.

"Oh." Lois said, and patted Nob on the head. "Just be a good boy."

Lois turned around and Nob let out a sigh of relief. "Come on, all of you boys. Get in the Christmas spirit. Help decorate the tree. We're having company tomorrow."

[_Yeah. I remember the Spirit of Christmases Past._]

"No, Reese," Lois told the five year old boy. "You hook the ornament on the branch like this."

Reese swatted at the ornament and it went flying off the tree and into the kitchen.

"Hal, do something with this kid."

"Now, honey. His aim IS getting better."

*

"Dewey," Lois screamed at the two year old boy, "you're not supposed to eat the popcorn. And Malcolm, why aren't you stringing more popcorn?"

"Because Dewey ate the needle," Malcolm said as he pulled on the thread coming out of his brother's mouth. "Don't bite the string, Dewey."

*

Hal snuck into the house, pausing to look in a mirror to see if his disguise was on properly. He adjusted his hat and tugged on his white beard then walked happily into the living room, tripping over the rope that had been pulled across the threshold.

"Get his bag," Eight year old Francis called out. With Reese's help he pulled the bag filled with presents out of Hal's hand and ran off to the bedroom. Little Malcolm paused, and looked back in concern. Satisfied Santa wasn't going to follow, he grabbed the milk and cookies and went after his brothers.

*

"And what do you want for Christmas, little boy."

"Why do you care?" Malcolm asked. "You're just a guy hired by the mall. And I'm just here because my mom thinks it's cute for me to get my picture taken with the school janitor, who's moonlighting."

"Smile," The camera elf called out and snapped the picture.

"That's against your contract," Malcolm added. "And I know where the principle's office is."

"OK, kid. What do you want?"

"One of those good gifts like that junior chemistry set, instead of that stupid balloon for kids whose parents won't pay you."

Santa shoved the chemistry set into Malcolm's hand and ushered him off his lap. "Come back to this mall again, you little creep, and I'll call the cops."

[_That was a great chemistry set, too. I even made my first explosives with it. With Francis's help._]

"Mom," Malcolm called out. "I'm going to run over to the Weasley's and give Ginny a present for her dad before she heads off to the hospital."

"Go ahead," Lois said, then turned to the rest of them. "Why can't the rest of you be so thoughtful."

Malcolm ran out of the house and across the lawn, almost bumping into Francis and Piama.

"What's the rush, Malcolm?"

"I want to be out of earshot before mom remembers that the Weasley's aren't home."

Francis nodded. "Get running. I'll cover for you if I can."

"Thanks, Francis."

Piama watched as Malcolm ran off. "Is your mother always like this?"

"Only when she's in a good mood. She actually wants a perfect Christmas, but it only happened once. That year we went to somebody else's house."

"At least your family celebrates Christmas. My mom was too cheap to buy presents. She converted to Judaism every December 24."

"That is cold," Francis acknowledged. "At least she didn't ruin the holiday for you. My mom would give us horrible gifts and tell us that Santa knew coal was too good for us. Of course, every gift we liked was one that dad bought us. I hated the sight of Santa Claus. I thought he was so evil. I actually made a plan to kill him and replace him with my dad."

"What happened?"

"Mom found out and told me there was no Santa Claus. It was Dad all along."

"That must have hurt."

"Naw. Once I knew who I was dealing with, it worked out. That year, I was the only one who didn't get underwear as a Christmas gift."

On cue, Lois walked out the front door, and shouted, "MALCOLM, GET BACK HERE!"

*

There was a knock at the door, and Nob opened it

"Mom, they're here," Nob called out, as he closed the door behind him.

"Okay, everyone," Hal said. "This is important to your mom. At least look like you've been enjoying Christmas."

"Thanks, Hal," Lois said and reopened the front door. "Tonks, Thank you for coming."

"I'm happy to be here. I don't exactly have a place to go to. This will be a treat."

"Make yourself at home," Lois offered. Tonks grinned, and her form shimmered as she became a familiar looking brown haired girl.

"That is so creepy," Reese said. "Couldn't you please become somebody else."

"That was cool," Dewey added. "You can take Malcolm's place if you want."

"Watch it, Dewey," Malcolm said.

"Go mail a letter," Dewey yelled back and took Tonks hand to give her a tour of the house.

Malcolm frowned and turned around to come face to face with a camera which flashed.

"Thanks for coming, Colin."

"Mum thought it would be fun. Can I get a picture of you with your sister?"

"Hi, Malcolm," Dennis said cheerfully, "You have to meet my parents. Mum, this is my best mate, Malcolm. He's the reason I'm getting great grades."

"Yeah, I do all his homework for him. Nice to meet you again, Mrs. Creevey. Mr. Creevey."

"Always wanted to meet some of the other lads from that school," Mr. Creevey said. "With two boys studying magic, it's quite a change in our lives."

"Ours too," Lois said. "We were very surprised when we found out about Malcolm."

[_This is the point where I want to leave before Mom says something to embarrass me._]

"Malcolm was actually at the school before he found out he was a student there. He was trying to sneak in."

"Dennis," Malcolm said quickly, "have you met Tonks?"

"Yes. I want to hear the rest of the story."

"Okay, and when they're done I'll tell the one about how I talked you into jumping into the lake."

"Where is Tonks?" Dennis asked as they walked off. He would ask his parents later.

*

"Do you really want to see my photography album?" Colin asked. "I only mentioned it because I like it. It's my hobby."

"I'd love to," Piama said. "Magic is new to me, and I'm curious about so many things."

Colin happily fetched the album from the family car, and returned with an impossibly huge smile. "I'll start in the middle of the album. Pictures from my second year. You'll recognize some of the people." He showed her the first picture. "This is the sorting. I took a picture because it was Malcolm wearing the Hat. He's the first American to ever attend Hogwarts."

"He looks so cute," Piama said. "And this is . . ."

"Just after he was placed in our house, Gryffindor. I have one more picture that you'll like. Someone else used my camera, and I hid it for the longest time, but I decided it would be fun to show."

"OH MY GOD! Is that Malcolm?"

"That's me," Colin said with a grin. "He gave me a cursed toffee. I call it, Malcolm's First Detention."

"Were you . . ."

"I was fine. And a teacher restored me almost immediately."

Colin's smile was infectious and Piama had to laugh. She laughed even harder when Colin added, "Malcolm is the only student in the history of the school to get a detention at the welcoming feast."

*

"I don't believe my mom let me do this," Dabney said as he and Lloyd walked briskly along the sidewalk. "An actual Christmas party."

"I know. Cynthia had a great idea."

Dabney froze as he looked ahead. "Trouble."

A group of high school guys came walking up laughing at the two Krelboynes. "The nerds are out tonight," one of them said mockingly.

Lloyd grabbed Dabney and jerked him into motion, saying, "They're just some muggles. Let's get going."

"Uh, Uh, Uh," Dabney said in agreement."

"Not so fast," One of the guys said. There was a small flash that was almost unnoticeable, and the guy fell forward with a grunt."

"What happened." "He tripped." "You okay, man?"

Dabney and Lloyd kept walking the other way when suddenly a long haired guy literally popped in front of them. "You're cool, little guys. Like I covered for ya. Them muggles are just too weird to deal with some times. Where ya headed?"

"Don't tell him anything," Lloyd whispered.

"We're going to a party," Dabney said without thinking. "It's only a couple of blocks from here."

"You're going there? Like this is great. That's where I'm going. I'll walk with ya. I'll make sure them muggles pay you no mind."

"Um, thanks," Lloyd said, unsure of what to do. His mind was trying to figure out what had happened. "The way you suddenly appeared in front of us. It was like magic."

"Like fer sure, little guy. I just turned seventeen. I'm street legal. No more warnings from the feds."

"Great," Dabney said as he attempted to vocalize.

"No kidding. Mom was getting ticked. She even threatened to take away my broom."

"Terrible," Dabney agreed with no idea of what he was agreeing to.

"Here we are," the long hair said as he grabbed Dabney's shoulder, who in turn grabbed hold of Lloyd. The space in front of them suddenly stretched to reveal another house on the street, this one lit up brighter than the rest. A girl opened the door and called out.

"Johnny, you made it. Who're your friends?"

"Like just a couple of little guys I ran into, Peggy. The locals were trying to hassle 'em. They were coming here so I joined 'em, you know, like for safety."

"Great. You must be friends of Belinda. I'm Peggy."

"Dabney," Dabney said carefully.

"I'm Lloyd," Lloyd said happily, convinced he was suffering from delusions and having decided to enjoy them.

"Come on in."

"What do we do?" Dabney pleaded to Lloyd.

"Look, we'll go in, and then explain we were going to a different party. Besides, this is a real party. Like normal people go to. And they think we're cool."

Dabney's eyes lit up. "A real party?"

Both boys happily entered the house having conveniently forgotten the magical means that brought them there.

* 

"You are really scary," Reese said. "I really wish you would look like someone else. I lived with Malcolm too long. It gives me the creeps to see him as a girl."

Tonks laughed. "I'm doing it as a Christmas Gift for your mum. Lois is enjoying it."

"Then why do you keep following me around."

"I was curious if you would actually climb a tree to get away from me."

"Well now you know," Reese said as he hung onto the branch for support. "You can go now."

"I'm curious," Tonks said as she reached for a low branch. "What would you do if I actually climbed the tree."

Reese screamed and jumped out of the tree, landed on top of his dad's car. He rolled off and began running without pausing. He only stopped several minutes after knocking a pair of carolers out of his way.

"Thanks, Tonks," Dewey said appreciatively as he stepped out of the shadows.

"Merry Christmas, Dewey," Tonks said as she took his hand and walked him back to the house.

*

"That's the Burrow?" Dennis said.

"Yeah," Malcolm replied. "The Weasley's live there, except they haven't been home much since we moved next door. They keep telling us it's not personal but, you know."

"I do," Dennis admitted. "It seems that every time we get a new neighbor, they end up moving. We've has eight new neighbors in the six years before Colin went to Hogwarts. People thought we were mental."

Malcolm laughed. "My mom tells everyone that I am mental. I don't go to school. I go to the Hogwarts Institute for Teenage Brain Disorders."

Dennis looked up. "I always thought that was a joke."

"It depends on which side you're on."

"That idea's Brill. I'll tell Mum on the way home. She can have fun with the new neighbors." Dennis looked around. "Are you sure no one's home?"

"Yeah."

"Watch this." Dennis concentrated and his body seemed to shimmer for a second.

"That was great," Malcolm said with praise. "It looked as though your body was trying to change."

Dennis beamed. "Colin noticed it first, when I was practicing. I would try to imagine myself as an animal and it would happen briefly." He frowned slightly. "I think you helped me do it. I know I can perform the spell but," he paused, "I can't seem to find an animal. I've tried dozens of different animals but nothing works."

"Don't rush it," Malcolm counseled. "It's like anything else. If you try to force it, it won't work properly. It's only a matter of time before you figure it out."

"So I shouldn't keep trying."

"Look, Dennis. I'll be honest. You're close to doing the spell but it's not powerful enough. One time you might try and it will almost work. McGonagall made me read about cases like that. Right now, there's a lady in St. Mungo's who tried it. Whenever you ask her anything she barks for an answer. Don't try it unless you're sure. I was lucky. I was very lucky. McGonagall proved that to me. She was another lucky one. And there are ten unlucky one's for every lucky one. And sometimes, like the dog lady, they're very unlucky."

"You're trying to scare me," Dennis said.

"No, I'm trying to warn you. You were doing something dangerous."

Dennis nodded. "I understand, Malcolm, and thank you. But don't try to make me believe there's a dog lady at St, Mungo's. That's too strange."

*

"I've heard all the scary stories," Mrs. Creevey admitted. "I sometimes wonder what my children aren't telling me."

Lois laughed. "If they're anything like mine, they're not telling you a lot of things."

"I know that's true enough," Mrs. Creevey said. "Because of Colin I started having the Daily Prophet delivered, and I would read things about the school, and Colin would never say anything. For example, there was an article that mentioned a student who used his photography potions to dye the caretaker's cat. Colin even sleeps with a camera, but he tells me he never heard anything about it.

"You're lucky. The headmaster, Dumbledore, makes it a point to keep me informed about Malcolm. His first year he had fifty days without detention. And that includes weekends and vacation. He was always doing something."

"But he's a wonderful boy," Mrs. Creevey noted. "Colin was sore for the longest time because of that incident on your son's first day, but Dennis always had good things to say about him. Only that Potter boy ranked higher on their list. And I wonder about him, the things I've read."

"Yeah," Lois admitted, "I've read those things too and they're a load of crap. Did you read that paper the day after Hallowe'en? They called my son a playboy. Malcolm couldn't say three words to a girl without stuttering."

Mrs. Creevey smiled. "From that first picture it looked as though Malcolm didn't bother saying anything."

"He told us he was too embarrassed not to kiss her."

Mrs. Creevey looked over to where Malcolm was talking merrily with Tonks. "I'm sure he was telling the truth," she lied. Suddenly she relaxed. She now understood that she was talking to a soul mate.

"Look, honey" Mr. Creevey said as he came over, wearing Hal's special Christmas hat. "We're under the Mistletoe. You know what that means."

"Stop it, Harold. I'm not in the mood."

*

Tonks looked up. "Malcolm, is that Mistletoe?"

"No," Malcolm said strongly.

"It looks like Mistletoe."

"What's that?" Francis asked. "Wait, that is Mistletoe. Piama, you know what that means?"

"Your mother left the decorations up from last Christmas?"

"Close enough," Francis said, and kissed her.

"That is so touching."

"For them, yes," Malcolm admitted. "Not for me."

Tonks laughed. "Relax, Malcolm. I was teasing. I have ten years on you, if you remember. And you're not my type. I like a man who can be himself."

Malcolm grinned, "you mean instead of a fly by night playboy?"

"Not that it would matter," Tonks said dramatically. "No one would ever know."

Malcolm pointed at Colin. "It does matter. There are photographers here."

*

Twelve year old Belinda glared at the two boys. "Who are you. Peggy said you were friends of mine."

Dabney quickly drank from his bottle of butterbeer, leaving Lloyd to answer.

"Johnny brought us."

Belinda rolled her eyes. "That brain-dead freak. Were you even invited?"

"Uh, kind off. We were actually trying to go to a different party."

Belinda laughed. "That is so Johnny. And he just dragged you here. Why did you stay?"

"Well," Lloyd prevaricated, "When we came in, well, um," then he added quickly, as an excuse, "The music is better."

"It's louder, too," Dabney admitted.

Belinda grinned. "Okay. You're a couple of geeks, but you can stay. Do you want to owl your friends and let them know you won't make it?"

"Owl? That's what Malcolm said that time," Dabney noted to Lloyd, neglecting to remember that Belinda was standing in front of them.

"Malcolm?" Belinda asked. "As in MALCOLM."

"You know Malcolm?" Dabney asked.

"Who doesn't?" Belinda said, the excitement rising in her voice. "Do you, I mean, do you really know him."

"We were Krelboynes together, before, um," Dabney faltered.

"Before he moved to England," Lloyd said diplomatically.

"OH OH OH," Belinda shouted, "Kamie, Crystal, come here quick. These guys know MALCOLM."

A blond haired girl rushed over. "You mean THE Malcolm. The Hogwarts Malcolm."

"You know about Hogwarts?" Lloyd asked in surprise.

Suddenly three girls were screaming in front of him, excited about their good fortune.

"Come with us," Belinda demanded, as she and her friends dragged the two boys to another part of the house where their own party was going on. A dozen boys and girls greeted them on their arrival and made them the center of attention.

"What's he really like," One girl asked.

"Did you go to Paris with him," a boy asked with a wink, to be playfully hit by the girl next to him."

"Can you change too," another girl asked.

Lloyd burst the bubble when he asked, "How do all of you know Malcolm?"

"From the papers," Belinda said, stating the obvious. "Don't you read the papers."

"Only if they're published in book form," Dabney admitted.

"You weren't lying, were you?" Belinda asked, "When you said you knew Malcolm?"

"We did. We do," Lloyd said. "We even spent most of the summer with him. We flew to England together."

"On brooms?" Someone asked with a laugh.

"Malcolm can't fly on a broom," Lloyd explained quickly.

"Oh, no," Kamie squealed. "That was true. And Gabrielle, is that true, too?"

"All I know is that when Malcolm found out she liked him, he couldn't stop talking about her."

"It was disgusting," Dabney said. "It was embarrassing. Cynthia was extremely annoyed."

"Cynthia?" Kamie asked.

"His old girlfriend," Dabney bragged.

"Malcolm is my hero," the smart-aleck boy shouted, raising his hands in the air

"Alex!" His girlfriend admonished.

When there was a pause in the conversation, Lloyd thought to ask. "You said you read about Malcolm in the newspapers?"

Belinda grinned. "Come with me. To my bedroom." She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along. His only thought was that he was going with a girl to her bedroom. "Thank you, Malcolm," he whispered.

Belinda opened the door to her bedroom and pulled Lloyd inside. Lloyd stood there, amazed. It took his mind a while to adjust to the moving pictures. He had seen them already throughout the house, but most of these were of Malcolm. On one wall was a poster of Malcolm standing in a hospital room, posing with a young girl who was obviously a patient. A smaller picture on another wall showed Malcolm with the girl and her parents. It was obviously a birthday party, but Malcolm was wearing a robe. A recent picture showed Malcolm and another girl. They were kissing, while someone held a crown of leaves over their heads. Belinda saw his eyes and said, "That is Gabrielle. It's hard to believe she's my age."

Lloyd nodded. When he turned his head, he say another picture. "That's Ginny."

"Ginny?" Belinda asked excitedly at the new information. "You know her?"

"Ginny Weasley. She lives next door to Malcolm, well, their parents live next door to each other."

"Are they, you know, romantically involved?"

"I think she likes somebody else. There was this older boy, Draco something. . ."

"I hate you," Belinda said, giving Lloyd a kiss. "Now I have to tell Crystal that she was right. She said it was Ginny from that Wizard Weekly cover and I didn't believe her."

Lloyd stared in surprise as he suddenly understood what was going on around him. "You're a groupie."

Belinda grinned widely. "Now I have to close the door."

Lloyd began to panic but realized quickly that it was to show him her favorite poster. It was a life size picture of Malcolm. He stood there grinning. He saw Lloyd and waved. Then he mouthed, 'watch this.' Lloyd stared in amazement as Malcolm transformed into an owl and then turned back into himself."

"Magic is real," Lloyd stammered.

*

Malcolm stumbled down the stairs and made his way into the kitchen. With five extra guests, he was stuck sleeping in the attic. The unheated attic. The thermal sleeping bag was wonderful, until he had to get up. He decided to stay up, and to get something hot to drink. He heard someone tip-toeing behind him.

"Dewey?"

"Wotcher, Malcolm. You're wrong," a familiar voice said. Malcolm turned around to look into his own girlish face.

"Why do you still look like that? I thought you would have changed back to yourself."

"Keep walking," Tonks said. "I'm trying to get to the kitchen and you're blocking the way." She deftly slipped past him and waltzed down the rest of the stairs. Malcolm quickly followed.

A short time later, as he drank from his mug of hot chocolate, Malcolm looked pointedly at Tonks. "I know why you didn't change back."

"Do you," Tonks said as she picked up her own mug.

"You weren't just born a metamorphmagus. All of a sudden, one day, you found out you could change."

"That is an obvious statement," Tonks admitted.

"I don't know how old you were when it happened, but I know how tall you were."

Tonks smiled appreciatively. "When I was this tall, it was the last time I could actually remember how to walk and move. That day I visited you at the school, when I changed back, and I tripped. That was the first clumsy move I made since I entered the school. I realized that I still knew how to move in at least one size." She looked into her cup. "You don't know what it's like, always being clumsy. Three out of four times, the spell I cast is 'Reparo'. This is the first holiday in a long time that I didn't drop a glass, knock over a chair or bump into somebody. This was truly a Merry Christmas for me."

[_Reese is right. It s creepy looking at her when she looks like me._]

"Merry Christmas, Tonks," Malcolm said as he reached across the table and took her hand.

"And many more," Malcolm," she replied, squeezing his hand in return.

The next line was cut off when the fireplace suddenly flared green.

"Who would be coming at four in the morning?" Tonks asked as she and Malcolm walked into the living room.

The question was quickly answered when a familiar figure suddenly fell out of the fireplace with a strange girl.

"Lloyd?" Malcolm asked in disbelief. "Lloyd what are you doing here?"

The fireplace flared again as Dabney appeared with another girl, and a boy followed close behind them.

"THAT'S HIM," the first girl screamed as she saw Malcolm.

"Quiet," Malcolm hissed. "Don't you know what time it is?"

"I case a silence spell on the room," Tonks said. "Just in case."

"Thanks, again," Malcolm said as he helped the small group to their feet. "Lloyd, what are you and Dabney doing here? Who are these kids."

"This is Belinda," Lloyd said, nodding to the girl who was possessively holding his arm. She let go with one hand and held it out tentatively.

"Hi."

"Hi," Malcolm said, shaking her hand.

"Crystal, he shook my hand."

"Shake mine, too," Crystal begged. Malcolm did so, while Tonks stood behind him, laughing.

"This is Alex," Lloyd said of the boy who was with them.

"It's nice to meet you. "I'm sorry about Belinda and Crystal. Girls can be so childish at times."

"Yeah, and you can stop shaking my hand," Malcolm said. "What's wrong with you people?"

"They're groupies," Dabney whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Groupies? Whose groupies."

"You should see Belinda's bedroom," Lloyd said, "It's covered with pictures of you."

Malcolm folded his face into his hands.

[_I wish Tonks would stop laughing._]

"Who are you," Alex asked suddenly.

Tonks grinned broadly. "I'm Mallory. I'm Malcolm's twin sister."

"I'm Alex. I'm in love with you."

"Malcolm," Dabney said questioningly. "You don't have a twin sister."

"They don't like to talk about me," Tonks said coyly. "With Malcolm as such a playboy, I'm an embarrassment to him. I mean, I actually enjoy going to school."

"Me, too," Alex said.

"She means she enjoys going to classes to learn," Crystal told him.

"So do I," Alex Insisted.

Crystal looked at Tonks. "Let's just say you're having a lot more fun than he is."

"Hey," Alex said angrily, but Crystal and Tonks kept laughing.

Meanwhile, Malcolm had cornered Dabney and Lloyd, with Belinda eagerly listening in.

"Listen, guys. You forgot about the time difference. It may still be early for you but here it's four thirty in the morning."

"THAT"S why you're wearing pajama's," Belinda said happily.

"Yeah," Malcolm said brusquely. "Look, Belinda. Did these guys tell you that they knew me?"

"Duhh, how do you think we got here."

"Floo powder. I bet they were really surprised when you suggested it."

"I didn't, I mean they, after all it was . . . How did you know?"

"Belinda, I don't know how they ended up at your party, but they're muggles."

"Oh, no," Belinda said laughing, "they couldn't be. Johnny . . ." Belinda stopped in mid sentence and looked at Lloyd. "You're a muggle?"

Lloyd proved it by asking Malcolm, "Shouldn't she be a muggle as well?"

"No, she can do magic. A muggle is a non-magical person, you know, somebody normal."

"Oh," Lloyd said. He smacked himself in the side of the head. "I'm such an idiot."

Belinda looked shocked. "He's only a muggle? Then he isn't really your friend?"

"Oh," Malcolm said coldly. "Why would wizards bother having muggles for friends?"

"That isn't what I meant. He said you went to school together and that he spent most of the summer with you and . . ."

"And it's true. We did. And we had a great time together. But he can't do magic and I wasn't allowed to tell him."

Suddenly Dabney yelled. "That's how you had my mother deported."

"That wasn't me," Malcolm said. "All right it was me but it wasn't magic. I hacked into the State Department files and changed her passport listing to Resident Alien."

"That's okay then," Dabney said, "except she's still mad at you."

"Excuse me," Crystal said slowly, "Did you say you hacked into the State Department?"

"Yeah, the hotel we were staying at rents computer time."

She looked at Dabney. "Then you're not a wizard. And the Krelboyne Academy is not a wizarding school."

[_Krelboyne Academy. I can't believe such a lie came from somebody who used to brag about having curvature of the spine._]

Malcolm smiled politely. "They lied to you. The Krelboynes are just a class of really smart kids. Lloyd and Dabney are a couple of smart guys but . . . they're not too big on the social graces."

"Wow," Crystal said, "I never heard somebody being called a geek so politely."

Belinda looked at Malcolm and gave a small smile. "Thanks for telling me," she said softly. "I was being such a jerk, I never thought of you as a real person." she giggled suddenly. "Lloyd is actually kind of cute. I think I'll make him my school project."

"What?" Lloyd asked as he heard Belinda's last line.

[_It's going to sound stupid but I'm going to have to sing this._]

"Lloyd and Belinda sitting in a tree . . ."

"Don't," Lloyd begged but Belinda started laughing. Then Alex screamed, grabbed some floo powder and jumped into the fireplace. Tonks walked over, smiling.

"What happened, uh, Mallory," Malcolm asked.

"Alex is enthralled by your romantic conquests on two continents, three once I told him you've been to Australia, and he tried to emulate his hero. I became bored with his boorishness and did this." Suddenly her nose changed to a pig snout and two tusks came out of her mouth. Every one screamed, except for Lloyd.

"Lloyd," Belinda asked, "Didn't that scare you?"

Lloyd shrugged his shoulders. "It does explain why Malcolm never talked about his sister."

[_I give Belinda two weeks before she can't stand Lloyd anymore. Give or take fourteen days._]

*

"It's time to go," Malcolm said, and pointed toward the fireplace.

"Can I write you," Belinda asked.

"Don't use perfume on your letter's. I have enough problems with that already."

"You mean with 'Gabrielle'?"

"You know about Hallowe'en? Yeah, her and Camilla."

Belinda and Crystal looked around one more time then helped Dabney and Lloyd back through the floo system. For a second, there was complete silence in the room.

"That was fun," Nob said. "Are more people coming?"

Malcolm looked up in surprise but Tonks was already walking to the stairs where Nob was sitting. "I know one little boy who would love a cup of hot chocolate."

Nob raced her into the kitchen.


	27. The New Professor

CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN: THE NEW PROFESSOR

  


"I'm on probation," Hagrid said to Malcolm.

"You don't seem too upset by it."

Hagrid actually laughed. "After making a fool of Umbridge, I'm surprised she didn't try to sack me right off. It bothers me, but I have a few things to make me feel better, like my new godson."

Malcolm smiled at the thought. "Hagrid, I feel weird talking to you like this. I'm not used to being nice to teachers."

Hagrid grinned through his recent injuries, which Malcolm knew better than to comment on. "Tha's all right, Malcolm. Most teachers aren't used to being nice to the likes of you."

Malcolm grinned in return. "I have to get to the school, but I think your real friends are coming."

Hagrid looked from the door of his hut and saw Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys walking up the path to the school, "I'll be seeing them later." He turned back to Malcolm and said, as a parting shot, "Sometimes, ye just don' know who yer real friends are." He winked at the surprised boy, then went back inside his hut.

*

Rose Zeller looked into the DADA class out of curiosity after she looked through the glass in the door and saw herself sitting at a desk reading along with the rest of the class. She opened the door and the classroom was empty except for Malcolm sitting at the teachers desk.

"I'm sorry. Am I disturbing you?"

Malcolm looked up. "No, I was trying to catch up on my Arithmancy."

"I looked through the window . . ."

"Do you like it?" Malcolm asked with a grin. "The trick was to enchant the glass so it was class specific. It shows whichever class is supposed to be in here."

"You did that."

"Professor Vector helped with some of the trickier parts. If you wait a few years, she'll teach you how to do it."

"If she actually teaches it. Can I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"What are we supposed to be learning in this class?"

"According to Umbridge, nothing."

"I'm serious," Rose said. "You've read the papers about those escaped convicts. I've heard stories about them but I can't believe that some evil person will stand around while I look for a teacher, unless they're evil AND stupid."

"Most of it is common sense," Malcolm told her. "What you should be learning at this point is not so much how to defend yourself, but exactly what it is you need to defend yourself from. Most kids who come here don't really understand what magic is, even kids from wizarding families."

Mitchell, another first year had stuck his head in the open door and was listening to what Malcolm said. "Then tell me, what exactly is magic."

"You both know how to do spells, some spells." Both Hufflepuffs nodded. "It isn't enough to simply say the words, although with the easy spells it seems that way. The thing most kids don't understand, and nobody seems to teach is that you need to know what you're trying to do, and how. It's like I told one of the kids I tutor. When you cast the spell you should be thinking about the results instead of the method . . ."

For most of an hour, Malcolm tried to explain the basics of magic, something that didn't seem as easy as he first thought. Rose and Mitchell left feeling content with his explanation, but they were back the next scheduled class with two other classmates. That Friday, Malcolm walked in to see ten expectant faces.

[_Oh, God. They all came._]

"Do all of you really expect me to teach you? I'm not a teacher."

"Sir," one boy asked, raising his hand. "I wanted to ask you about implications. You didn't explain that fully the last time."

"That's right," a girl said.

"Fine," Malcolm said. "When I talk about implications, I'm referring to intent. Are all of you clear on what I mean when I say intent?"

Rose raised her hand. "Intent is the desire that motivates a spell. It is not enough to want something, we have to know what we want and to have as clear an idea as possible."

[_Did you see that? She read from her notes. These kids are actually taking notes in my class._]

[_NO. I didn't mean that. This is not a class. I'm only answering a few question._]

"You quoted me word for word. But do you know what it means?"

Ruth frowned. "It means that, say I want to bake a loaf of bread by magic, it's not enough to know I want a loaf of bread, I need to know how to bake it."

"Close, you're describing the rules of the formula, the context of the spell. When you intend, you have to conceive, you have to hold the idea in your mind, of a baked loaf of bread. When you formulate the spell, that is when you need to know how."

Several students nodded.

"Implication," Malcolm said. "To imply. Let's stick with the analogy of the loaf of bread. When we alter a spell, we alter the intent. If we do not keep the proper image in mind, we are also making a change in the spell, although not as drastic in most cases. For example, when we cast the spell to bake a loaf of bread and we imagine, say, eating a toasted slice with butter. We've implied something else. The spell is correct and the bread bakes, but it could have a slight buttery taste. That would be a nice extra. But it could end up being a loaf of toast. Think of the loaf as being one giant crust. By letting your mind wander, you've ruin a perfectly good loaf of bread. Mitchell?"

"That doesn't seem like much of a change."

"You're thinking small. Let's try it on a larger scale. Has anyone here ever been to St. Mungo's for treatment?" Two students raised their hands. "Would either of you have preferred to have the doctor thinking about his dinner when he was helping you or are you happy that he concentrated on the task at hand?"

Malcolm smiled as he saw their reactions. He had made his point.

[_I don't believe this. I am a teacher. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound._]

Malcolm pulled out his wand. "Who has their wands?"

Half the students raised their hands. "You," Malcolm said pointing at one girl who did not raise her hand. "Why didn't you bring your wand?"

"Professor Umbridge . . ."

"She isn't here. I am. When you come to my class, bring your wand from now on. Do you understand?"

The girl, and most of the students, grinned. "Yes, Professor Malcolm."

"Those who have them, put your wands on your desks, out of the way but easy to get if you need to, and visible to you at all times. I want a volunteer. One with a wand."

A boy stood up, holding his wand.

"Cast the Lumos spell."

"Lumos," the boy called out and the tip of his wand lit up.

"Very good," Malcolm said walking up to the boy. "Do it again."

The boy started to cast the spell but Malcolm put his hand over the boy's mouth.

"Continue," Malcolm told the boy, but kept his hand over the boy's mouth. "You did fine," Malcolm said, and motioned for the boy to sit down. He walked back to the front of the classroom and held up his wand. He said nothing. The tip of his wand light up. It's pale color changed to red then to gold. Malcolm put his wand away.

"Intent and Implication," Malcolm repeated. "If you know what you intend with a clear enough vision you do not need words. Words and hand gestures are only rituals. A powerful wizard is one who knows that intent is what is important. And that is why we have this class. Intent is what makes the difference between ordinary magic and the Dark Arts."

[_Next week, I'm going to start giving out homework._]

*

"Hem. Hem."

Malcolm looked up from his lunch to see Professor Umbridge looking at him.

"I looked in on your classes several times this morning," Umbridge told Malcolm. "I was most gratified to see the first years leaving your class without the usual raucous behavior. I particularly like to check on them."

[_Here it comes. I'm finally off the hook._]

"Hem. Hem. My new duties are very taxing, and despite your ridiculous posturing outside of this school, I've decided that you can continue monitoring my classes. Professor Dumbledore has assured me that you are sufficiently advanced in your studies. This should not set them back too much."

"In other words, my punishment is to do nothing all day unless you let me."

"You do have a clever mind, you horrid boy."

[_That's weird? I'm still stuck. How come I'm not upset?_]

Umbridge walked to the teachers table with a satisfied grin.

"What was that about?" Neville asked.

"You know how Dumbledore let me take all of those advanced classes? Umbridge thinks its fun to make me take no classes, except for the ones that don't conflict with her schedule."

"I wish you monitored our class. I could use a free period."

"That will never happen. She hates Potter. That's why she keeps monitoring that one herself." Malcolm looked up as a first year walked by. "Euan, you missed class today."

"What a surprise," Euan Abercrombie said with a laugh.

Malcolm gave him a strange smile. "Euan, let the other's know. There's no more free time."

Euan gave Malcolm a funny look. "I'll let them know." He walked away, looking back several times.

"I suppose you want an explanation," Malcolm said.

"No," Neville said. "I clearly heard Umbridge say she was checking on the classes. I'll pass the word around." Neville gave Malcolm a wink.

"Um, Neville. She's only checking on the first years right now."

"Only first years," Neville nodded. "I'm curious. About the class she saw. Why."

Malcolm understood the question. "I have to. There isn't anybody else. The older students are fine. They seem to learn enough on their own." Two pairs of eyes flashed briefly towards Potter. "These kids don't even know where to start."

"Nobility?" Neville asked with a grin.

"Bad conscience," Malcolm admitted. "I blame my Mom."

"If you want, I could have Gran talk to her?"

Neville grinned as Malcolm glared at him.

"Hi," Ginny said as she sat down across from the two boys. "Malcolm, what's going on? Fred and George were talking to the first years when Euan came up and said they had to go to Defense Class."

"Umbridge is stopping by first year classes to make sure everything is normal," Neville offered. "She was even seen waiting outside the Hufflepuff class, to watch them leave."

Ginny looked shocked. "What happened?"

"We lucked out," Malcolm admitted. "They were all there having a class of their own that day. If It had been any day before that, or any other class . . ."

"I'll let the twins know. They're free that period. It was one of their . . . Hi, Hermione."

"Hi, Ginny, Malcolm. Uh, hi Neville." Hermione politely smiled and kept walking.

"What was that about?" Malcolm looked at Ginny then at Neville.

"We were at the hospital on Christmas with Harry and Ron," Ginny said. "Visiting my Dad."

Neville nodded. "They ended up in the permanent ward, visiting a former teacher."

"He got loose and we were walking him back," Ginny explained. "Neville and his Grandmother were there."

Malcolm nodded. "You never told them."

"No, I didn't even let them know I already knew."

"Harry knew," Neville said looking at Malcolm. "Someone told him."

"It was Dumbledore," Ginny explained. "Harry told us afterward, but he said he was told to keep it a secret. He didn't explain why."

"I trust Dumbledore," Neville said evenly. "I do, but . . . sometimes it's hard."

*

The first year Gryffindors walked into the Defense class and sat down. A minute later, Fred and George came in. "Malcolm's spell is still working," George pointed out. "All we have to worry about is if Umbridge wants to watch you leave."

As Malcolm entered, Fred opened his robes and pulled out a box. "Today, children, we will be testing our newest creation, unless the teacher has something to say?"

Malcolm looked up in surprise, then closed the door behind him. He put his books on the teachers desk. Everyone stared at him. He turned to Fred and George who both winked at him. Malcolm shook his head ruefully, then pulled out his wand. He did not know it but he then did a perfect impersonation of another teacher.

"If you wish to observe the class, the two of you may do so but stay out of the way, and keep silent. I don't let anyone talk without my permission."

With amusement, the twins took seats in the back of the class, bur Fred kept his box out. Malcolm turned to the first years.

"Everyone, take out your wands."

The first years looked amused, but one by one they complied. The twins, grinning, pulled their wands out as well.

"Put them on the desk in front of you. In easy reach but out of your way, and visible at all times." Everyone did as instructed. "Who knows how to perform a spell?"

A couple of students bothered to raise their hands.

"Who knows why?"

"Magic?" Matthew Zeller answered as a joke.

"That's a good answer, Malcolm admitted. "What is Magic?"

"What?" Zeller laughed.

"You're from a wizarding family. A lot of the others aren't. You can help them. What is magic?"

"Is this a joke?"

"It's a serious question. If you don't know the answer then say so."

"This is a waste of time," Zeller said as he got up to leave.

"You're already a week behind the Hufflepuffs, Matt," Malcolm called out. "You don't want some stupid mudblood with the same name being smarter that you."

Matthew Zeller turned around, in a rage. "You have no right to use a word like that. It's despicable and demeaning."

"You had no problem with it four months ago."

If Mathew Zeller had been hit full force with a stunning spell, he would have looked the same as he did in that moment. He hung his head and said, "That was then."

He looked up and saw Malcolm, watching him without malice or anger.

"And this is now," Malcolm said. "Take your seat and we'll get started with the class."

Fred and George looked at each other as they observed the confrontation. Malcolm couldn't have handled it more smoothly if he had planned it. They noticed how the first years had even been surprised by what Malcolm did. They both smiled as Malcolm began to speak.

"Magic is all around us and in each of us in this classroom. Those who can handle magic the best are the strongest and most powerful wizards and witches. Those who best understand what magic is can best handle it. With magic, Knowledge literally is power. If you know what you want to do, you can do what you want. That is the way magic works. I want everyone to cast the Lumos spell." Malcolm watched the class. "Lesson One: Formula and Intent. Now, how many of you can cast that spell with a hand over your mouth?"

*

Matthew Zeller and Euan Abercrombie sat at the table in the common room.

"I can't believe he gave us homework, Euan."

"Matt, I can't believe we're doing the homework."

Jenny walked by. "Are you still working on that? He only wanted three inches."

"It's not that easy," Euan complained.

*

Hermione went to sit down in her usual spot when she saw a familiar figure in a corner of the library. She walked over to greet him. "Malcolm?"

Malcolm jumped.

"I didn't meant to scare you," Hermione whispered softly.

"I didn't hear you. I was really into this book," Malcolm said apologetically, while trying to cover the book with his arm."

"That's Basic Magical Theory? Why would you want to read that?"

"It's, um, one of the first years. He asked me a question and I answered him but he didn't understand the words I used. I was looking up how someone answers the question in simpler terms. I mean," Malcolm said with a laugh, "Not everyone is a smart as us."

"That's a nice thought," Hermione admitted. "What are those other books? Moral Dilemmas in Black and White? The Dark Defense?"

"It's a case study of arguments on what constitutes Dark Magic. That other book is more of a primer. It's not very good unless you're starting out."

Hermione looked at the last book. "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish? That's Dr, Suess?"

"Yeah, it's really weird. It's the same book I remember as a kid but the pictures move. They have the entire collection in the archive section. I should warn you, you don't want to read Green Eggs and Ham."

"I'll take your word for it." Hermione shook her head as she went to sit at her usual spot. Malcolm always seemed to be doing the strangest things. She looked up at him and smirked. Mrs. Norris was sleeping, curled around one of his legs.

*

"We have a few minutes before the end of class," Malcolm said. "Are there any questions? Dewey?"

"Malcolm, how can you be such a creep as a brother, but you can be a really good teacher?"

"It won't work, Dewey. You didn't do your homework. You don't do it tonight you have a choice. Detention with me, or I tell Mom."

"How many inches?" Dewey asked sadly.

"Six, plus an extra inch for being a day late."

Another Slytherin boy raised his hand. "I didn't do my homework either. Are you going to tell my mom?"

"NO, I'll tell my mom. She can explain it to your mom a lot easier than I can. But she'll be nice about it. My mom will start with something like, 'Have you heard the latest about that lazy kid of yours.' Remember, Seven inches, on my desk at the beginning of next class or I send out the owls."

"Did you know," one girl said, "All one of us has to do is tell a teacher what you're doing."

Malcolm smiled. "But then, all of us have to admit that we never went to class the entire first term." The girl smirked at the answer but Malcolm continued, "All you really have to do is not show up. If you're not here, I can't do anything. It's only if you stay that you have to play by my rules."

The girl hesitated. "I'll be here, but, how many of the others don't bother to show up?"

"Everyone shows up," Malcolm admitted. "I think we all understand that it's important."

When the class ended the girl whispered as she passed by, "You're a great teacher, Professor Malcolm."

[_I wonder how my groupies would react to that statement?_]

*

"I've been helping some of the first years with their homework," Dennis Creevey said. "They seem to have an extra class."

Malcolm looked up from the papers on his desk. "That's nice, Dennis, but I'm busy."

"Correcting homework papers, it seems. Could you explain what you meant by Implication Parameters?"

"Not in one sitting, Dennis. Unless you're good with big words."

"Is that a yes?"

"Okay, I'll explain it."

"Great," Dennis said and walked to the door. He opened it and said, "He'll do it."

Malcolm stared in horror as ten Gryffindor second years walked in and sat down at the desks. He stared at the open door when he saw movement. It was Fred Weasley closing it for him.

*

"We were curious," Fred asked when he and George cornered Malcolm in the common room. "The Lumos Charm that you did. How many other spells can you do like that?"

"I can also do green and blue."

That's not what we mean," George said in a conspiratorial voice. "How many different spells can you do without waving your wand or anything."

Malcolm shrugged. "Only that one. It's the easiest spell there is."

Fred and George nodded in agreement. "If we can get rid of Umbridge, will you teach our class?"

"What can I teach you guys that you don't already know?"

"Then we'll teach you," Fred replied.

"It will make the class more interesting," George admitted.

Malcolm shook his head. "Just don't give me any more classes. Thanks to you the Hufflepuff second years are showing up as well. Do you know how much work it is to teach a class? I've lost all of my free time. I am only a third year."

"Should we tell him about the Ravenclaws?" Fred asked his brother as Malcolm walked away.

"Let it be a surprise," George suggested.


	28. Almost Hogsmeade

A/N: To Vmortitia the answer is yes and yes. Feel free to call her Professor Hem Hem. With all the fanfics on ff.net I wouldn't be surprised if someone else has also thought of it. Thought for the day - search old fanfics to find out who first referred to the Dark Lord as Voldie. Also there is a dog-lady at St. Mungo's. She is mentioned in OOTP when the nurse in the permanent ward is handing out Christmas presents.

I thank Feronia for her wonderful endorsement. I should apologize for any confusion you feel, but when dealing with Malcolm that feeling should be expected. Sometimes, I'm not even sure what I'm writing about. Also to Technetium, I don't get paid for any of this by anyone. I can't even find Linwood Boomer's phone number.

Once again, I will thank everyone else who reviewed. You have given my ego it's daily boost. And thank you to all the readers as well. I'll stop now.

  
  


CHAPTER TWENTYEIGHT: ALMOST HOGSMEADE

  
  


Malcolm was sitting quietly in the common room when the fireplace suddenly flared a bright green. He looked over from his vantage point, and cringed when he saw that girl, Belinda, step out of the fireplace.

[_I hate this. Everybody else sends an owl or something. If it's for me, they show up personally. Why?_]

Belinda looked around to orientate herself then asked the nearest person, "Where's Malcolm?"

Hermione pointed him out and Belinda came running over. "Malcolm, I need your help. It's Lloyd."

"What happened?"

"He's at my house having lunch. You have to explain quarks to me in under two minutes."

[_I'm sorry I asked Why. It's obviously done to punish me._]

"Quarks are the fundamental matter particles that are the building blocks of the universe. The weird thing about them is that they have no known size or internal structure. There are six different types of quarks that are called flavors. In order of increasing mass they are up, down, charmed, strange, top and bottom."

"Thanks," Belinda said. "I have to hurry back. He thinks I went to the, well, never mind."

Belinda ran back to the fireplace, threw in some floo powder, and returned home.

Malcolm noticed everyone looking at him. "Hey, it's the short answer. I only had two minutes."

"Malcolm," Ginny asked. "Is that Lloyd's girlfriend?"

"Not exactly. Lloyd is her project for muggle studies."

*

"Malcolm, could I talk to you for a minute."

"Sure, Professor McGonagall. I'm finished with breakfast anyway."

Malcolm stood up and followed the Transfiguration Professor from the Great Hall.

"You have a fair number of books with you," she commented.

"Just trying to keep up with my lessons," Malcolm said. "I have plenty of free time."

"And you have something you can do with your free time."

Malcolm blanched. "What do you mean?"

[_She can't know what I'm doing._]

McGonagall smiled. "Apparently Professor Hagrid had a talk with your mother. She sent me an owl this morning. I thought you might like to read it."

Malcolm read the letter with a feeling of disbelief. "Is this real?"

"It is. And it came quite timely. Tomorrow is a Hogsmeade weekend, and you now have permission. I am sure you will enjoy Valentine's day, even if you are alone. But perhaps you can buy a present for a nice young girl while you are in town."

"That's a great idea," Malcolm said. "What would you like?"

"Thank you, my young flatterer, but you know I was referring to someone else. You are still talking to Gabrielle Delacour?"

McGonagall watch as a happy third-year skipped all the way to his class.

*

Several hours earlier, a strange scene occurred. One that would ruin Malcolm's weekend plans.

"The Master doesn't know what he's talking about," the weedy looking man said as he paced back and forth in his small laboratory. He said to himself in a whiny voice, "You're not clever enough for this. This requires stealth. This requires agility. This requires this. This requires that." He resumed his normal voice which was not much different. "I'll show the Master that I can plan with the best of them."

The weedy man grabbed his broom, a small pouch of floo powder, and a small letter opener. The letter opener was in fact a portkey and the man promptly disappeared.

*

Malcolm walked into class and sat his books on the desk. Once all of the students arrived, he began. The first year Hufflepuffs excitedly grabbed their wands for their first spelling lesson.

"The first defensive spell we'll learn is to shield," Malcolm told them. "There are easier things to learn, but I want all of you to be able to protect yourselves, before you even think about casting spells at anyone. I'll be using a laughing hex, because it doesn't hurt . . . if removed quickly. How many of you practiced what I showed you in the last class?." Everyone raised their hand. "Now we'll find out how many of you lied."

Malcolm hexed the students one at a time. The first round, not one student deflected the hex, but it did put everyone in a good mood. Mitchell was the first student to succeed, but his happiness was short lived. He was forced to explain to his classmates what he had done.

By the end of the class, all but two of the students had been able to deflect the spell to some degree, ending up with only a slight case of the giggles. Malcolm dismissed the class without giving homework, and relaxed until his next class. He ate a quick lunch and went back to the classroom to grade some papers.

*

Lloyd walked up to the door of the Kenarben residence and knocked. There was no answer. He looked and saw the car in the driveway and knocked again.

"Maybe he left already," Dabney asked.

Cynthia shook her head. "He wouldn't leave the door open."

After several minutes of arguing, they pushed the door open the rest of the way and went inside.

"Stevie," Cynthia called out. "It's time for school."

There was no answer.

"I'll search his room," Lloyd said apprehensively and looked through the open door into the bedroom. It was empty. He turned around went Cynthia called. Fearfully she pointed into the kitchen. Stevie's parents were standing there, frozen in place. Then Dabney called from where he was standing in the living room.

"Look at this. It's a letter for Malcolm."

"What do we do?"

"Open it," Cynthia said. "It might tell us what happened."

Lloyd opened the letter because no one else wanted to. "Somebody kidnaped Stevie," he said in his own fearful tone.

"It's obviously magic," Dabney declared.

"Magic isn't real," Cynthia pointed out. All three glanced in the direction of the kitchen. "Okay, I'm willing to leave room for doubt. You guys seem to have experience in this. What do we do."

"Belinda," Lloyd said. "She's a witch."

"I wouldn't say that," Dabney said. "She's pushy. I'll admit that much."

"No, I mean she can do magic. She'll know how to handle this."

"Where does she live?" Cynthia asked.

"She's only a block from your place," Dabney said. "She lives in that big three story house."

"There aren't any three stories houses in this neighborhood."

"Believe me," Lloyd said. "It's there."

*

"Oh, it's you guys," Peggy said as she answered the door. "Who's the freaky girl."

"That's Cynthia. She doesn't know about magic."

Peggy nodded. "I'll take care of her." She turned back into the house. "Belinda, your boyfriend is here."

"I'm not her boyfriend," Lloyd complained. "I'm only helping her with a school project."

"What ever," Peggy said, as she pulled out her wand and walked over to Cynthia, "Honey, I know you're shook up but just try to relax. That's good. Oblivate. Now go on to school. You'll meet your friends there."

Belinda looked at Lloyd. "What are you doing here this early in the morning? Shouldn't you be at your school already."

Dabney decided to have a nervous breakdown. "It's Stevie," he screamed as he fell to his knees. "They kidnaped him and they want Malcolm."

"He gets like that," Lloyd said as Peggy and Belinda stared. "Oh. They left a note."

Peggy took the note and read it, then gave it to Belinda. "Whoever kidnaped him isn't very bright. They spelled Malcolm's name wrong."

"Peggy, you have to help," Belinda said. "Mom will kill me if I ever use the fireplace without permission again."

"But I should?"

"Look, whoever did this took Stevie back to England. If you go to Hogwarts, they can deal with it right away."

Peggy shook her head. "I'll tell mom. She can call the Aurors."

Belinda stomped her foot. "No she won't. She'll say I'm lying and not do anything, just like the last time."

"You were lying the last time. Look, these are your weird friends. You deal with it. I'm going to meet Johnny."

After Peggy disapperated, Belinda stomped her foot again. "Lloyd, I'll take care of it. You might as well go on to school. I'll call you later."

*

"I'm dead," Belinda said as she stepped into the fireplace. She heard her mother yelling at her just before she was whisked away and knew she would be grounded for the next century, if she was lucky. After another harrowing trip, she arrived in the Gryffindor common room. "I need Malcolm," she said to the first person she saw. "It's important."

"I need to stop sitting by the fireplace," Hermione said. She decided not to review her homework and put it away. "Should I bother asking why?"

"I promised Lloyd I'd let Malcolm know about his friend, Stevie. He's been kidnaped."

"He's babysitting one of the classrooms. I can show you. It's on my way to Arithmancy."

"Great," Belinda said with relief, as she followed Hermione out of the common room.

"Do you go to school in America?" Hermione asked conversationally.

"Um, yeah. Brentwood Academy."

"You could try relaxing. We won't get there any slower if you do."

"I'm just shook up. I've always heard about things like this."

"I'm sure everything will be fine." Hermione looked at the young girl. "The authorities are taking care of this?"

"My mom refused to believe me. I ran away and . . ."

Hermione groaned. "We'll get Malcolm. Then we'll find a teacher."

They turned a corner and Belinda looked in the window at the first year students quietly reading.

"That isn't real," Hermione told her. "It's only to fool people. The classroom is actually empty." She opened the door and stepped in.

". . .a clear example of cause and effect. It can be as dangerous as . . ." Malcolm looked over to the door. "Hermione? Belinda?"

"Stevie's been kidnaped," Belinda blurted out. "They left a note. I read it. I could make out everything but that scrawl at the bottom. I didn't know what to do."

Hermione added, "And I just discovered she hasn't told anyone yet."

"What?" Malcolm said as he grabbed the note. "That scrawl is the guy's name," Malcolm said as he grabbed a quill and copied the name onto a piece of paper."

Malcolm handed the note to Belinda. "The Charms classroom is at the end of the corridor. Give the Professor this letter and let him know what happened. Hermione, take over the class."

Malcolm put the piece of paper in his mouth and flew out the window, his beak clutching the paper firmly.

"That was great," Belinda said, then remembered her task and ran out of the room.

Hermione turned around and saw ten faces staring at her in expectation. "Sooo, Malcolm has been teaching you?" Ten heads nodded. "And where did he leave off?"

One boy raised his hand. "The teacher was explaining the effects of interference with active spells by other spells."

Hermione nodded, then noticed that everyone had their wands out. "Um, why do you . . ."

A girl smiled and raised her hand. "Defense is always important. In this class our wands are always ready, to show that we are always ready."

With those words, Hermione realized that Malcolm had been teaching this class for some time. She drew her wand, smiling as did everyone else. "I had a personal experience with such an incident last year. It should give you an idea of how unpredictable the results can be . . ."

*

Belinda walked into the classroom and stopped suddenly when she spotted Professor Flitwick.

"You are not in this class," Flitwick noted. "You are not in this school."

Belinda quickly explained herself and gave the Professor the note. He read it briefly, and added a message to the reverse side. He then cast a spell and the note flew away like a bird. "The Headmaster will take care of the matter. You might as well join the class."

"But I have my own school to go to."

Flitwick smiled with amusement. "You are a second year?"

"No," Belinda laughed, "I'm in the seventh grade."

"Seven out of twelve?" Flitwick asked.

"Yeah,"

"Here it would be second out of seven. We have our own way of counting. Please take a seat. You have to wait until I receive a reply and that will take a while, Miss . . ."

"Call me Belinda."

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Belinda. Do you have your wand?"

Belinda decided she didn't care what happened when she finally returned home. She would always be able to brag that she attended school at the legendary Hogwarts, even if it was only for one class.

*

Malcolm circled the queer looking building until he realized what it was. It was an old lighthouse with the top removed and covered with a window. He flew down to the small house attached to it and looked inside. A weedy looking man spotted him and waved him inside shouting, "it worked. It worked."

"What worked?" Malcolm asked as he landed inside the house and took human form.

"I forced you to come here, and now I will reveal my evil plan."

[_Great. I'm at the mercy of the village idiot._]

"It doesn't seem that evil to me," Malcolm said casually. "I mean, all you did was kidnap my friend to draw me here. If it was really an evil plan you would have slaughtered a dozen innocent people just to show you were serious."

The man paused in thought. "I suppose you are right, but I always get squeamish when I see blood. I'll settle for mildly evil. This way, please. I need to show you that your friend is not harmed before I tell you what you must do to secure his release."

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders and followed him into the next room which was the base of the lighthouse. The entire interior had been gutted and you could look all the way to the top. Stevie was sitting frozen in his wheelchair. 

"Finite Incantatum," the man called out, and Stevie became alive again.

"Don't. . ." Stevie called out, then relaxed when he saw Malcolm. "What . . . happened?"

"You were kidnaped by the local mad magician," Malcolm pointed out, "and he's now ready to reveal his evil plan."

Stevie nodded and waited to hear the worst.

"You'll hate this," The man said, happily. "To secure the release of your friend you must swear undying loyalty to the Dark Lord. Isn't that wonderful?"

"It's kind of stupid," Malcolm said. "It doesn't make any sense?"

"Of course it makes sense. You are being forced to support the most evil man in the world."

"But Voldemort already bribed me the middle of last year. He doesn't need to force me to do anything."

"That isn't true. The Master would have told me. I am his loyal servant. You will swear your loyalty now, and the Master will hail me as his true disciple, Nott."

"You've got that right. You're definitely not."

"No, I'm Nott."

"Yes you are, or I should say you are not."

"But I am Nott."

"Not what."

"Not not what. Nott."

"That's . . . wrong." Stevie said. "It's not . . . not not . . . it's . . . knock . . . knock."

"Who's there?" Malcolm asked.

" . . . not . . ."

"Not who?"

"Gesund . . . heit."

"That was not funny," Nott said while Malcolm and Stevie laughed.

"Look," Malcolm said. "If you don't believe me, call Uncle Lucius or even the big guy himself. They'll tell you that you goofed."

Nott wavered. "I will check. And you will stay here until I return." He left, closing and locking the door behind him."

"What . . . an idiot," Stevie said. "Where . . . are we?"

"About a forty five minute flight from my school. Would you like to visit Hogwarts?"

"I would . . . love to." Stevie said. "He . . . froze . . . my parents."

"They should be fine by now," Malcolm assured his friend. "Does your wheelchair still work?"

"Like . . . a charm?" Stevie said, proud of his pun.

Malcolm pulled out his wand and pointed it straight up. "Alohamora." The window at the top of the tower obligingly opened up. "Follow me," Macolm said as he change into an owl. He flew up as Stevie followed him in his wheelchair. He made a mental note to thank David Winter for enchanting it the previous Christmas.

Not to say that Malcolm was a lazy bird, but once they were flying in the right direction, he perched on Stevie's arm and let the wheelchair do all the work.

*

Several people spotted Malcolm and Stevie as they approached the school, and a small crowd was waiting as they landed. Malcolm explained what happened to Dumbledore and the Auror that was with him. The Auror signaled his partner, Tonks, and both flew off on their brooms. Dumbledore smiled and declared the matter taken care of.

"And Malcolm, you will report to Professor McGonagall for detention. You did leave the school grounds without permission."

"That will not be necessary," Professor McGonagall said from behind the headmaster. "You did have a good reason, Malcolm. I think we need only revoke your Hogsmeade privileges."

"But Professor."

"McGonagall looked at Malcolm sternly. "You left the grounds without permission, young man. You recklessly endangered your own life and the life of an innocent muggle. And for all your great wisdom you never even thought about what you should do. Be grateful that you received such a mild punishment."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Then the incident is closed," Dumbledore said. "Stevie, your parents are fine, and they have been convinced that you are spending the weekend with a friend. Do not worry on their account."

"Thank you . . . Professor," Stevie said gratefully.

"You must be hungry. Malcolm, why don't you escort our guest to the Great Hall?"

"C'mon Stevie," Malcolm said as he climbed the steps. Stevie floated up the steps with him, pausing as several teachers introduced themselves. As they reached the doors, Stevie met someone he immediately disliked.

"Hem. Hem. What is the meaning of this?"

"Ah, Dolores," Dumbledore said. "Malcolm intervened in a dreadful kidnaping affair and rescued this poor boy from almost certain death." He added in a whisper, "although it probably would have been a death by boredom."

"I owe it all to you, Professor Umbridge," Malcolm said loudly, "and your great skills as a teacher."

Albus smiled cheerfully. "I think it wonderful that the hero of the hour humbly pays tribute to the teacher who inspired him." In an obvious act of mockery, all the teachers applauded the DADA Professor.

*

Ginny stood up in surprise when she saw everyone turn their heads. "STEVIE!"

Draco stood up in surprise when he saw everyone turn their heads. "STEVIE!"

Ginny and Draco looked at each other, sneered, and sat back down.

"You know him?" Ron asked.

"Stevie Kenarben," Ginny explained. He's Malcolm's best mate."

Ron looked at the black boy in the wheelchair, and back at his sister. "Malcolm has mates?"

Ron watched as Stevie rolled down the aisle.

"Dennis Creevey," one boy said to Stevie. "I guess I'm only Malcolm's second best mate."

"Lavender Brown," A girl said. "I always thought Malcolm was cute."

"Wave," Colin said as he stood up and pulled his camera from his robes and flashed a picture.

"He did that to me, my first time," Malcolm admitted. "You'll be able to see again in a few minutes.

"Thanks . . ." Stevie said. He blinked through his glasses a few times and spotted a familiar face. "Hi . . . Ginny. Where's . . . Draco?"

"The other side of the room, I'm happy to say."

"I'm . . . sorry to . . . hear . . . that. You . . . made such . . . a cute . . . couple. Who's the . . . guy with the . . . purple face?"

"This is my brother. Ron, this is Stevie Kenarben."

"It's obvious you are a friend of Malcolm's," Ron said. "Ginny, how can you put up with that insult?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He was joking, Ron. You're worse than Fred and George."

"Where do . . we sit?" Stevie asked as Ron looked away, embarrassed.

"Malcolm," Hermione called out from across the table. "There's room over here."

"That's Hermione, and next to her is Harry Potter," Malcolm explained, as Stevie watched Hermione force the black haired boy to move down. Hermione pulled out her wand and caused a section of the bench to disappear, amazing everyone by the fact that the rest of the bench did not collapse.

"All we have to do is get you over here," Hermione said as she pointed her wand at Stevie.

"I can . . . do it . . . myself," Stevie said, grinning widely. He watched the faces of the students in the hall as his wheelchair rose into the air, floated across the table, and settled down next to the surprised girl.

[_That was cool. Of course, no one pays attention to me when I fly over the tables._]

Malcolm sat down next to Stevie and a familiar girl. "Hi, Belinda."

"Malcolm, this place is great. It's nothing like Brentwood Academy. You are so lucky to go here."

"Um, Belinda. Why are you still here?"

"Avoidance. My mom promised to kill me when I get back. I'm not allowed to use the floo network."

"Because of those earlier visits?"

"No, you dummy. Because I'm twelve. I wasn't allowed to come here, ever."

"Oh. Well, good luck."

"Malcolm. Lloyd is not my boyfriend."

"I know. He's just helping you out with your class project."

"He is a geek, you know. I don't even like him."

"I believe you."

"I mean, he is cute when he starts talking all the scientific stuff and he thinks we're all interested."

"I understand. If you wanted cute you'd go with Dabney."

"You're making fun of me."

"I wouldn't dare."

Belinda frowned. "Don't"

"Do you laugh at Lloyd's jokes?"

"Lloyd tells jokes?"

[_She's telling the truth._]

*

"Malcolm," Hermione said as they were leaving. "I need to talk to you in private." She pulled him over to the broom closet. "I wanted to tell you that I had a great time today."

"Uh, Thanks Hermione, but . . ."

"I know. I promise to keep it a secret."

"Thanks."

"And I graded the homework for you. It's in the top right hand drawer of your desk."

"Thanks."

"I wasn't sure if I did the right thing. I saw a note on you desk saying comp 5. I told them to give me five inches on the complications of mixing spells, and I encouraged them to use the library for research. Did I get that right"

"Uh, yeah, you did. Thanks."

"And Malcolm?"

"Yeah?"

"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled. "Are you crazy? How long have you been teaching that class? Do you know what will happen if you get caught? How many people know about this?"

"You, me, Fred, George, Neville, all of the first years, and the second years in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff."

Hermione stared at him. "All? As in all forty first years?"

"Yeah, if you had looked in the second drawer you would have seen the rest of the homework for the other classes. If you'll excuse me, I have to talk to Stevie."

"Malcolm, You're not giving out house points, are you?"

Malcolm laughed. "That would be spotted right away. I can't take them away either. Although I have given out detentions."

Hermione laughed as well. "If you ever need any help, all you have to do is ask."

Malcolm and Hermione left the broom closet, eliciting a few curious stares. "Where's Stevie?"

Pavarti Patil was frowning. "Lavender took him on a tour of the grounds. They're probably by the lake."

"They walked down there in the dark?"

"There is a full moon. And Stevie gave her a ride."

"But it's freezing."

"They didn't look cold," someone else said.

Hermione grabbed Malcolm's arm. "I'll walk you back to the common room."

"Thanks, again, but I've got work to do."

Malcolm walked back to the classroom and pulled out the homework parchments. When he finished grading them, he placed them all in order and got up to leave the room. He paused as an afterthought, and reached into his robes, pulling out the vial and notebook he had stolen from the man, Nott. The vial was a clear liquid, and he put it in the bottom drawer of his desk. He opened the notebook and quickly realized it was written in a fairly complex code.

[_This guy could have been a Krelboyne. He has all the characteristics. He's really smart and he has no idea what the real world is like. I'll figure this out later._]

Malcolm put the notebook with the vial and left the classroom, looking briefly at the window in the door which showed an empty classroom with the lights out. He returned to Gryffindor and found no one there, so he did a very logical thing. He went to bed.

*

"Is this a practice?" Colin asked as he sat down next to Malcolm.

"Not really. They're going through the motions to show Stevie how Quidditch is played." Malcolm pointed to the flying wheelchair by the far hoops. "That's him playing keeper."

After watching for a few minutes, Colin commented. "It's a good thing Ron isn't here. Stevie is playing a lot better than he does."

"Hey, watch this." Malcolm said as the chaser threw the quaffle. Stevie blocked the quaffle with the side of his wheelchair. It bounced off with a crazy spin to it and curved in mid air, where one of his teammates caught it.

"What was that?"

"It happened once by accident. Stevie found out that if he deflects the quaffle with one of the wheels while the wheel is spinning, it puts a curve on the ball. And that was his best one yet."


	29. Quidditch and Things

A/N: I need to apologize to Black Ice. It was one of those mental slips. Now I have to review every chapter to make sure I correct everything. As to Mandraco's review, I must share this bit of wisdom a friend sent to me recently.

- Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a total mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey letetr by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

Isn't taht amzanig?

  
  


CHAPTER TWENTYNINE: QUIDDITCH AND THINGS

  


It was lunchtime in the Great Hall.

"This is so cool," Millicent said when Reese gave her the present. "I love boxes."

"There's something inside of it, too," Reese bragged.

"I'm going to be sick," Dewey said, and went to find someplace else to sit.

"What do you think," Draco asked as Dewey sat down. "You've seen all the teams play so far. Do you think we have a chance?"

"We have no chance at all. We're all doomed."

"Um, Dewey I was talking about the Quidditch Cup."

"Oh. Probably. I was thinking of something horrible. If Reese and Millicent got married and had a kid, would you rather it take after the father or the mother?"

Draco put down his fork. "You do know you've completely ruined my lunch."

"Misery loves company," Dewey told him. "Are we going to have a sing-along again, since Gryffindor is playing."

"Definitely," Draco grinned.

"I'll get my earplugs," Dewey said as he left.

"My voice isn't that bad," Draco yelled after him.

"I believe you," Dewey yelled back.

*

"Am I being punished," Anthony asked as he refilled his plate.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"It was decided that Reese needed a chaperone and that it should be me. I almost wish I stayed on the train and let Bill and his friends trounce me. I'm working in the kitchens at school thanks to that jerk, and his brother. My social life is non-existent. I have no friends. Hi, Euan."

"Anthony!" Euan Abercrombie stopped in his tracks. "Wow, you must be a half foot taller than the last time you were here. I didn't even realize it was you."

"That's about right," Anthony said. "You've grown a little, too."

"Not really. Are you here for the Quidditch match? Do you want to sit with us? I'll understand if you say no. We are first years."

"I'd love to. I feel responsible for you 'little ones.'"

Euan left to tell Jenny and Matt, and Anthony turned back to Ginny. "Where was I?"

"You were saying how you didn't have any friends."

"Well, friends my age. At my school."

"That's terrible," Ginny said consolingly. "I would love to have a cheat and a hustler as a friend,"

"That isn't fair."

"Isn't it," Ginny asked pointedly. "Money isn't everything. There is such a thing as principle."

"I'll go sit with my friends," Anthony said as he stood up.

"You don't have any friends," Ginny reminded him. "Maybe . . . you just don't know who your friends are."

"I'm not in the mood for grade school philosophy," Anthony said and walked away.

Neville looked over at Ginny. "And you annoyed him because?"

"He's so single minded. He believes the world is one way and he won't see anything different."

"Are we talking about Anthony or Harry?"

Ginny looked at Neville in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Have you tried giving Harry advice? I hear him snapping at Ron and Hermione all the time, and at you. Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"Harry has a lot on his mind. You know that, Neville."

"So does Anthony. The funny thing is Harry worries about You-Know-Who. Anthony worries about Reese . . . and us."

Ginny looked down the table where Anthony was laughing at something one of the first years said. "But he gets along with the first years?"

"They're not a threat. They've only started learning magic. We already know. The point is, Ginny, that magic threatens his world. Not the muggle world, but his personal world. He had a niche carved out for himself and we removed the walls. We did it to Harry, too, but we let him join us."

"I never thought about it," Ginny admitted.

"Neither did I," Neville admitted. "Not until Gran and I talked about Harry, after we met you at the hospital. I asked around about Anthony. Do you want to know what I found out?"

Ginny stared at Neville. More than anyone, he had changed this past year, and for the better. Her thoughts then returned to what he had asked her. "You told me they have some things in common."

"They have a lot in common," Neville said. "Anthony is what Harry would be if he were a muggle. His lucky break came at the same age as Harry's. It was a scholarship. That gives his life another parallel. And like Harry, magic has torn his world apart. Anthony's only disadvantage over Harry is that he doesn't have someone trying to kill him."

Ginny was amazed at the revelation. "How can that be a disadvantage?"

"Look what it did to Harry. He couldn't possibly deal with You-Know-Who on his own. He had to learn to rely on other people. That's why Harry has friends. That's why Anthony doesn't. He never needed to rely on anyone. He never learned to trust people. He doesn't have any friends."

"But the first years . . ."

"Are safe. They're no threat to him. Remember? They may think they're his friends but they aren't."

"Excuse me," Malcolm said from across the table. "Most of us couldn't help but hear your conversation, and I'd like to put my own two cents in."

"Please don't make a smart remark," Ginny said.

"Someone once told me that I didn't know who my real friends were. I think that's the difference between Potter and Anthony. Potter learned who his friends are."

Ginny marveled at such a serious statement. "Who are you, and what have you done with Malcolm?"

"And by the way, the rest of the team left for the Quidditch field ten minutes ago."

Everyone watched in amusement as Ginny raced from the Great Hall.

*

"That was interesting," Anthony admitted a half hour later. "I am surprised the score was that close, but I don't understand the rules. Are you supposed to attack your own team that way?"

"You're making fun of us," Euan said.

"It wasn't a very good match," Anthony tried to explain. "Your beaters are incompetent. And that Keeper? He seems to be afraid of everything. The singing didn't help him, I admit."

"I'm sorry you didn't enjoy the match."

Anthony paused. "You didn't enjoy it either."

Euan stopped and glared at Anthony. "It's bad enough we lost. You don't have to rub my face in it." He walked off to join his classmates leaving Anthony standing by himself.

*

"My father answered," Matthew Zeller told the twins.

"And?"

"Number 93 Diagon Alley will be available as of the end of March, if you're interested. He said that he would be willing to work with you."

"I know you, Matt. Why is he willing to help us."

"Your sampler. Read his letter for yourself. He says you have promise."

Fred and George looked over the terms. "The rental price seems high, but the purchase price is definitely low."

Matthew laughed. "Of course. Father is offering to rent or sell the property. He wants you to buy it."

Fred shook his head. "Number 93 is not the most promising place in Diagon Alley. All the shops in that area are, shall we say, low class."

"Listen," Matthew said. "Half of the shops in that area are there simply to have something there. And father owns most of those properties. If he can get a successful business there, it will draw customers as well as shopkeepers looking for a good location. Father thinks you will be successful. That is why he wants you to buy the property."

"That is clever," Fred admitted. "If we are successful we could move someplace else."

"But we wouldn't," George continued, "If we owned the shop."

All three smiled at each other.

"By the way, Father will be at the Three Broomsticks next Hogsmeade weekend. He said you would know where it was."

*

"Did you see this," EJ said to Malcolm, showing him his copy of the Quibbler.

"I've heard about it, and your timing is great. Have you read the latest edict?"

EJ laughed. "They're decrees, not edicts. You make them sound sinister."

"Read it."

"They've banned the Quibbler? Maybe edict is a good term after all."

Malcolm looked at the paper and had a thought. "Have you already read this?"

"From first page to last."

"Could I borrow it, until the end of the week."

"For a whole week?"

"Only during class time. I can return it at the end of each day."

"Malcolm, that is another strange request from you, but I will grant it. And make sure you disguise it."

*

Malcolm called the class to order. "We have to change our routine for today."

"Sir," one of the students said. "Does this have something to do with the recent educational decree, number 27?"

"Yes it does. Have any of you seen the paper in question, or read the article in it? Better yet, how many of you know what the article is about."

[_Good. At least all of them didn't raise their hand._]

"Have any of you read the article. No one?" He pulled the Quibbler out of his robe pocket. "I don't want anyone to accidentally read the article so I will inform you of exactly what it says. If you find yourself reading any of this, stop immediately."

"Excuse me, Sir," another student asked. "Aren't you violating decree number 26 by giving information not related to the course."

"That decree specifies the course I am paid to teach. Because I am not being paid, that decree does not apply to me."

"Great," the student said.

[_I have to be careful. He thinks I'm serious._]

Malcolm read the article to all of his classes. His only problem was with the Slytherin class."

"Sir,"

"Yes, Avery."

"The article mentions my father."

"Then it is my hope that the article is mistaken on that point."

"Sir, my father's views are well known, and I am not at odds with all of them."

"Neither am I," Malcolm said. "You're father and I both agree that you should have as thorough an education as possible. This is something you obviously agree with because you are in this class."

"Malcolm," Dewey said. "He's worried about the other kids. Slytherins have a reputation. All of us do."

"I can't do anything about that. I can't stop things from happening. I can't keep them from happening to any of you. I can only teach you how to defend yourselves. Have you been practicing your shielding spells? That is your first defense, and for now I hope it is enough."

[_They're still not convinced._]

"I want all of you to understand this. I teach DEFENSE. I will not tolerate any offensive act against any of my students, and I expect all of you to help each other"

"ALL of us?"

"Yeah, Dewey. All of you. Even those stinking Gryffindors."

"Only the first years, though," a girl asked.

"Let's be generous. Mostly the first years."

"Malcolm," Dewey asked in a serious tone. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were there, but you never talked about it."

"You were there?" A girl asked. "You saw . . . Him?"

"All I did was run away. Nothing happened."

Dewey raised his hand. "Madam Pomfrey told Mom that the poison would have no permanent effect."

"Shut up, Dewey," Malcolm said angrily. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I remember seeing Mom when she found out," Dewey said quietly. "I just wanted to know."

"What happened," the girl asked, with a tremor in her voice.

"Please tell us?" one of the boys asked. "You were there. Didn't you fight them?"

"He didn't have his wand," Dewey said. "I know that much."

Malcolm looked at the worried faces.

"And that's all you need to know."

*

The Slytherins left the class quietly. After they had walked away they all stepped into an empty classroom. "We have to tell them," the girl said.

"Who?"

"The other classes. You saw the Professor. You saw how hard it was for him? We can't expect him to tell us what happened"

"She's right," the boy added. "If it weren't for Dewey, we wouldn't have known anything."

Avery looked down. "I shouldn't bother saying anything."

"Neither should I," Dewey admitted.

"Why you?" Avery asked.

"Potter mentioned your Dad. And he mentioned Uncle Lucius. The one I tried to get to adopt me."

"Then you'll watch our backs," the girl said. "Remember the Professor's words. It doesn't matter who our parents are, or what we will become. We'll tell the others because they need to know. And nobody else. Only first years."

"We're doing something wrong," one boy asked. "Aren't we? We aren't even supposed to be having this class."

"Well," Dewey said. "That depends on which side your on. I think this is the class we're supposed to have."

"Are we all in," The girl asked. Nine voices answered yes.

*

"Excuse me, Malcolm," a voice said from the doorway.

"Professor Vector?"

"Good, I've caught you between classes. Here is the book you asked me about."

"Um, thank you, Ma'am."

"I'm happy to do it, Malcolm. With everything else you have to do, it makes me happy to know that you want to keep up with your Arithmancy. Now, I must go before your next class arrives."

"You know?"

"Oh yes. Dewey told me."

"He told you?"

"It was a while ago, and he didn't tell me specifically. I suppose it would be safe to say that I overheard it. Don't worry, Malcolm. I won't tell anyone, but if you need anything, please let me know."

"Thank You, Professor."

"Your Welcome . . . Professor." Vector smiled warmly as she left the classroom.

Malcolm smiled in return. He had another friend.

*

"Miss Granger?" Matthew Zeller asked as he saw Ginny leave the common room. "Could I talk to you, privately."

"You're being very formal, Matt. Sure you can. What do you want to know?"

Matthew put his finger to his lips and motioned her to follow him. He led her to an empty room, where the other first years were waiting.

"What are you up to?" Hermione asked.

"The article," Jenny said. "Malcolm read it to us, so that we would know about it."

Hermione looked at her in surprise. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Malcolm's brother is a Slytherin," Euan added. "We've been talking to them."

"Why?"

"You're his friend," Matthew explained. "We know he was there. What happened to him?"

Hermione was caught by surprise when she heard the question. Unbidden, the images came of the pool of blood, the limp owl, the pale second year lying on the ground with the slash marks crisscrossing his chest. "You don't want to know," she cried.

"No, we don't," Jenny admitted. "But, Malcolm is our . . . teacher. We need to know."

For a brief second she hated all of them for forcing those memories back on her. Then she looked at their worried faces. Something happened, and they needed to know. "I can only tell you what I saw when he returned." The first years nodded. "Ginny was the one who found him. Malcolm was always like a little brother to her. With everything else that had happened, he was still the first one in her thoughts. I suggested we look for him in the owlery . . ."

*

Malcolm sat alone in the quiet classroom. He didn't even care that he was missing his dinner. "Why did I ever bother?" he cursed.

"Bother?" Professor Binns asked as he floated through the wall into the classroom. "Why do any of us bother?" His ghostly form looked down. "Malcolm, what are you doing here? And you are very rude. That is where the teacher sits."

Binns looked questioningly at Malcolm when the boy did not bother to reply. "I haven't seen you in class recently. Have you been ill? No, it can't be that, you would be in bed. My, my, those are homework papers. Are you a teacher, now?" It seems like it was last year when I was giving you special lectures. You don't have your journal out."

Malcolm looked up. "What journal?"

"What journal indeed," the ghostly form said. "You are not a very good teacher. How long have you been teaching?"

"I just started," Malcolm admitted.

"Then I condemn your teachers for not telling you. I always keep a daily record of every student. I make notes of their progresses and their failures, and I include my personal observations. For example, among my fifth year students, I have a boy named Perkins." He opened up a ghostly book which appeared in his hand. "Intelligent but lazy. I even note that I caught him sleeping in class one day. When the end of the year comes, I have a clear record of what I should say about him, and this year it looks as though I will not be saying anything nice."

"I'm sure he deserves it."

Professor Binns looked angry. "He does not. What he deserves is for me to find a way to motivate him. This journal is not the record of the failures of my students. It is a record of my failures. Shape up Malcolm, or I will talk to Professor Dippet about you."

"Yes, Sir. I will."

"And Malcolm. May I congratulate you on an excellent career choice. It is wonderful to see you carrying on the family tradition."

Giving him a ghostly smile, Professor Binns floated away through the opposite wall.

[_Family tradition? It's just him, and he never told me how far back he goes in my family._] 


	30. Thick and Thin

A/N: FF.Net decided to be rude this morning and I was unable to log on. My apologizes to all of you early readers. Next time I will send a nasty e-mail to let them know how upset I was.

Colibi asked about the events the first years were referring to. They were described in Life is Unfair, Chapter 26 which has the droll title, "A Stroll Trough the Park"

As an aside, I do hate grammatical errors. I use every means, including a twelve year old proofreader who will laugh at the obvious mistakes, and yet I will still find them after I have posted the story. And the worst part is that they seem so obvious. C'est la Vie.

  


CHAPTER THIRTY: THICK AND THIN

  


Malcolm was updating his notebook when Professor Vector walked in.

"Madam Pomfrey gave me the report on my prospective student."

"Oh? Is it anyone I know?"

Sinistra looked curiously at Malcolm. "I am talking about Michael Davies."

[_Yeah, the Ravenclaw. His brother is Roger Davies, one of their chasers. The kid tries hard but he's basically an idiot. He's good at casting spells though._]

"To the shame of a full half dozen teachers you were right. Although to be fair, they have been forced to concentrate on other matters. Malcolm, what is wrong? I would have thought you would be happy."

"I'm not sure I understand why I should be happy," Malcolm said with a sense of confusion.

"A modest Malcolm?" Professor Vector grinned. "After everything I've seen and heard, I am surprised, and pleasantly so. All of his teachers are to be given a copy of the report and here is yours."

Malcolm took the parchment and opened it out of curiosity.

[_Reading disorder . . . steps to take . . . teacher's requirements . . . Malcolm is the idiot._]

"It seems so obvious," Malcolm said. "I can't believe that, um. . . ."

"That someone didn't notice this sooner? Blame Davies. He does a very good act of playing the fool. He must have perfected it before he came here." She patted his shoulder. "You were insightful, and extremely tactful. Except for your brother, I don't think any other student will know about this, unless Davies tells them himself."

"Professor Vector, I don't really deserve any credit."

"For obvious reasons, we can't give you any credit, and thus the matter is closed. The boy had a problem. Now he has solutions. He has a reading disorder, but it is one we know how to deal with. He will have a heavier workload from now on, but he will be better off for it."

"And everyone will make fun of him if they find out." Malcolm looked up. "Am I being pessimistic?"

"You are, but you are learning. Is this your journal?"

"Professor Binns floated through the classroom and told me to keep one or he'd tell Professor Dippet."

"And he will," Professor Vector said. "Dippet always listens to him."

"Um, Professor. I thought Dippet was dead."

"He is, but his portrait is in the headmaster's office to give advice as needed. "Dippet and Binns were good friends when they both were alive."

"You knew Professor Binns when he was alive?"

"I was in his class. And Malcolm, death did nothing to change his teaching habits. In his prime, the man could put an entire class to sleep in ten minutes or less."

"Professor, do you know him fairly well?"

"Well enough for knowing him, alive and dead for almost eighty years."

Malcolm licked his lips in anticipation. "Do you know how he's related to me. You know. How far back."

Vector smiled. "He never told you? I'm not surprised. If I am correct, and I'm sure I am, you are descended through his youngest granddaughter, who would have been your grandmother."

[_That makes him my great-great-grandfather. And he has to be on my Dad's side because, well, you read about my other Grandmother._]

"Thanks for telling me. And to think, I had enough of a resemblance that he recognized me as a relative."

"That's wrong, Malcolm. He didn't recognize you at all. He recognized Dewey."

"Dewey?"

"Yes. He even showed us a picture of himself as a child. He had a house elf fetch his old album. They could have been identical twins."

Malcolm shook his head. "I will never look at Professor Binns the same way again."

"Why don't we get something to eat," Vector suggested. "If anyone sees us talking it is because you want to keep up with your Arithmancy."

"I do feel better," Malcolm admitted, "since talking to you."

As they walked down the corridor, Vector said, "Perhaps you should visit me to learn how to teach. It seems you could use some help."

"I could. I didn't know who to ask. The truth is, when all of this started I didn't even know what to ask, or say."

"Now you do, so make good use of it."

"Professor, why are you helping me? I mean, I'm a powder keg ready to explode."

"An interesting analogy, but I think I know what you mean."

"Yeah. I'm trying to keep a secret with seventy other people involved. I'm not very good at conspiracies. Once I'm found out, that's it."

Professor Vector laughed. "With your history, isn't it a little late to think about the rules?"

"So why are you helping me?"

"You need help, Malcolm. Why are you teaching them? Could it be because they need to be taught? And don't worry about being found out. It doesn't make sense to most people, because they know what you are like. No one would believe 'that Gryffindor' . . ." Vector looked toward the staircase that led to the Great Hall. "Whatever is that noise?"

They both paused at the top of the staircase and looked down.

[_That's Umbridge. Whatever is going on, she's enjoying this._]

As Malcolm looked down, he saw McGonagall walk over to a teacher he had rarely seen. The teacher was distraught, and was being continually harassed by remarks that Umbridge was making.

"Who is she?"

"Sybil Trelawney. She teaches Divination." Vector answered coldly. "Apparently Umbridge has decided to remove her from the staff in a very public fashion." A timely hand was placed on Malcolm's shoulder. "You asked me why I am helping. I would ask 'Why ask why?'"

Malcolm looked down in time to see the doors from the outside open wide. The hall seemed to grow quiet except for Trelawney's weeping and the consoling words of McGonagall. Dumbledore walked in, appearing as calm as if he was coming in for tea. Words were exchanged, and Malcolm watched the verbal sparring with interest. True to form he could not help but comment on it.

"Umbridge thinks she has the upper hand."

"She has," Vector pointed out. "She can do anything she wants."

"But she has to follow certain rules."

Professor Vector smiled, "Very observant, Malcolm Can you tell me why?"

"She's stupid."

"Could you be more specific?" Vector asked as Trelawney walked by, escorted by McGonagall. She gave them a polite nod.

"She doesn't understand that the rules don't mean anything."

Malcolm paused as Dumbledore announced the new Divination teacher, and a centaur walked into Hogwarts. "I wish I had taken Divinity."

"You wouldn't be able to attend anyway, Malcolm. Umbridge gave you the worst punishment possible. You have to sit in class all day and do nothing."

"But I'm not doing nothing."

Vector rolled her eyes. "Except ringing the death knell on the English language. I firmly believe the gravestone will read, 'stayed in America too long.'"

"Sorry," Malcolm grinned despite the situation.

"Back to our lesson, Malcolm. What did the headmaster do?"

"It's the old switch and bait routine," Malcolm said as Vector let out a mock groan. "He threw his authority in her face, by demanding that Trelawney stay. He knows that she's already thinking of her next letter to Fudge, and he brings in a centaur." Malcolm paused. "That was a beautiful move."

"It was," Vector agreed. "Removing Sybil will now be meaningless. She has removed a mouse to find a rat taking it's place. Albus may not realize it, but he has placed himself in great danger. Do you know why, Malcolm?"

"Um, She'll try to take over."

"I forgive you that remark, Malcolm. That has been her intention all along. But Albus has been blocking her path by throwing rules in her way. And Dear Dolores lives by the law. She has to continually write to the Minister to have each rule changed. But things are different. Dolores is afraid. She now understands that the law can defeat her. But she has followed the law this far and she will continue to do so."

Malcolm frowned. "I don't understand."

"Think about it for a while and you will. You understood everything else so far."

Malcolm nodded. "I've had time to think."

"And I will save you the effort, this one time. Professor Umbridge needs to remove Dumbledore but she needs a reason. She no longer wants proof. She will settle for doubt. Any reason, as long as it is a good one, will do She will look for any manner of violation that she can find, and she will tighten the rules to make violations that much easier to occur. Finding enough of them, or one the right size will be enough."

Malcolm looked up. "Me?"

"You are the right size. You could become very convenient to her."

Malcolm looked down as he tried to think. He never even noticed that the foyer was now empty. "What do I do?"

"What do you usually do? What did you do the last time?"

Malcolm paused as he understood what she was referring to 

"When I was in trouble last year, I ran away."

"I know," Vector told him, "I heard the story. If I remember the recent article, Harry Potter ran away as well. You are in good company."

Malcolm snorted but without humor. "He didn't run away. He stayed and fought."

"I distinctly remember that he did not stay."

"He fought."

"He had to. And when he had the chance, he ran away. As you did, if I remember correctly."

"I didn't fight."

"Not with a wand, but I understand that you were quite rude. You did not even make an effort to be friendly."

"I made a bad first impression. It wouldn't have mattered."

"If you did not run away, you would have died, Malcolm. If Harry Potter had not run away, he would have died. He did it with more flare than you, but he did the same thing, for the same reason. He had to. He could not accept the other option."

Vector made a motion for Malcolm to walk with her down the stairs. "My suggestion is that you do the same thing you did the last time you had a serious problem."

Malcolm followed quietly and entered the Great Hall unnoticed by the few people remaining. Professor Vector ignored him as she walked to the teachers table and sat down to eat. Malcolm was lost in his own thoughts. The professor seemed almost to know what he was going to say before he said it. When he chanced to talk with her again she told him, "I have been through this before. I know what will happen."

"How will it end."

"That I do not know. I hope it will end well."

*

"Excuse me, Sir," the first year said.

Harry looked up from his homework. "You don't have to call me Sir. My name's Harry." He tried to give a convincing smile. "Is there a problem?"

"We wanted to know if we could talk to you."

"We?"

"The first years. About what happened?"

Ron gave a mock moaning noise, but Hermione stared in surprise.

"Did you read the Quibbler?" Harry asked, and the first year nodded. "Then you know what happened."

"Please, Sir. It isn't about you. It's . . ." His voice faltered.

"It's about Malcolm," Hermione said, guiltily. "I mentioned that you talked to him, afterward."

"When?"

"A week ago. They found out Malcolm was there. They cornered me, and I told them what I knew."

"We were hoping you would know what happened to him," the boy said.

Harry was half amused and half angry. "Why don't you ask Malcolm?"

"We did," the first year said. All he did was scratch his chest through his robes and call us stupid. Until Hermione told us, we didn't think anything about him scratching his chest. He always does that when he's worried."

"He didn't do it last year," Ron said. "Harry," he added, "You don't have to say anything. It's not important."

"Yeah," the boy said in a good imitation of Ron, "We're only first years. Just a bunch of midgets."

Ron's face went red while Hermione and Harry laughed. Harry looked at the first year, and their smiles faded together. "Where's Malcolm?"

The first year shrugged his shoulders.

"He's with Professor Vector," Hermione offered. "They were watching from the top of the stairs, during, um, dinner."

"That's it then," Harry said. "If you want to know, I'll tell you what he told me."

He walked over to the couch near the fireplace, which the first years had commandeered, and sat down when a place was made. Hermione and Ron followed. EJ and Amber looked up and joined the crowd out of curiosity, as did Dennis Creevey and a couple of others.

"I've told my story," Harry said, "You know what to expect. Malcolm's story is shorter, It shouldn't take much time. He was kidnaped, by means I do not need to tell you."

"We've already talked to Malcolm Baddock," Matthew Zeller said. "We know how that happened."

"Thorough little gits," Ron said.

"Well said, Ron," Hermione whispered.

"How to begin," Harry thought out loud. "Perhaps I should tell this exactly the way he told me. No," he paused, "I should begin the way he told the story the first time, or so he told me." Harry took a long pause.

"What happened?" Ron finally asked.

Harry looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Did you know that Voldemort is a movie buff?"

It was supposed to be a serious moment. Ron was confused, but the look on Hermione's face was priceless.

"Malcolm awoke in the graveyard to find his bindings being removed. He found himself face to face with the man he now knows as his uncle, Lucius Malfoy, who told him something wonderful had happened. Malfoy joyfully led his nephew through the crowd of Death Eaters to meet the master . . ."

*

"How do you feel?" Hermione asked after the ordeal was over.

"Strange," Harry said "When I gave my interview, I remembered what I was feeling and I could add that. This was different. I remember what happened, what he told me, but I don't know what he was feeling. Can you imagine, Hermione? Ron?. He was already wounded and he made a joke. All I did was run around trying not to be killed, and he looked death in the face, literally, and laughed." He paused. "It makes you wonder why he called me the hero."

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "Maybe because 'Harry' the Hero sounds better."

"Thank you, Hermione. Now I know the truth. All of this is happening because my name is alliterative."

Ron smiled along with his friends. "I know what you mean, Harry. But after hearing what you've told us, I have to know. Who are the Three Stooges?"

*

Malcolm was sitting at his desk, again, as the day began to end. He had the homework graded, the journal updated, and he was making adjustments to his lesson plans. Professor Vector's lessons on teaching did not improve his workload but it gave him a framework. He had to admit that organization was not one of his key skills, but he had improved over the past month. Happily, his students seemed more attentive, although he didn't know why. He almost felt he should use the word intensive. He stood up to stretch his legs, and walked over to the window.

He heard the voices first. Every sound from the hallway was amplified to give enough warning that someone was coming. Had he been at the desk, he could have shoved the papers in a drawer and made some lame excuse. But Malcolm wasn't supposed to be there. All of his work was laid out, and he was across the room taking a short break to watch the sun set.

"Come this way, Junior Inquisitors," Umbridge was saying quite clearly. Malcolm looked up to see her through the window that she had put in the door on her first day. "I can explain everything I need from you in here, without fear of anyone overhearing." She did not see him because the enchanted window showed a dark empty classroom. The knob turned and . . .

White. Everything was white. No sound but a soft tuneless hum. Nothing to see but the color white, like a light shining over everything. Nothing to feel but a soft breeze that did not seem real.

Dark. The room was dark. Malcolm turned around and looked out the window. It was nighttime. It had been nighttime for a while because the moon which was to rise early was high in the southern sky. Malcolm turned back and looked at his desk. The papers were there, undisturbed. But he had seen Umbridge entering the room. He had seen Crabbe and Goyle behind her. He heard the voices.

[_This is impossible._]

There was a noise beside him and he turned.

"Peeves? What did you do?"

"He did nothing," another voice said as Nearly Headless Nick floated into the room. The Grey Lady, house ghost for Ravenclaw, followed closely. "You can still feel it," she said. By one's and two's the remaining ghosts in the castle arrived, but none of them said anything to him after Nick's first remark. Malcolm called out several times, "What happened?" but none of the ghosts would answer. "Professor Binns," he called out, when the history Professor floated near, but he received no reply.

Nervous and scared, he called out, "Grandfather, help me."

Professor Binns paused, as though pulled out of a trance. "I am not your grandfather."

"You were Grandmother's Grandfather," Malcolm corrected.

"You should be more accurate."

"I was trying for polite."

"Very well. I will answer to Grandfather." The dreamy look began to return to his face.

"Grandfather, What happened?"

"It was here," he said happily. "You can still feel it." Then he floated off.

Malcolm went to his desk, the ghosts moving needlessly out of his way, and hurriedly put his papers in the drawer. He left quietly, and returned to an almost empty common room.

"Malcolm?" Amber said sleepily from the couch by the fireplace where she sat with EJ.

EJ looked over. "What happened, Malcolm? Pardon the phrase but you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I've seen all of them," Malcolm said and went to bed.

"Malcolm never does things by half-measures," EJ said, and Amber laughed into his shoulder.


	31. Snapshots of Dewey

A/N: Phoenix Flight, if I am correct, had one of those wonderful experiences with computer technology, by trying to access the latest chapter to my story immediately after I posted it. The result was that the chapter did not exist.

Also, to Lindiel Eryn, the part about Nob lying is in Chapter 23 of Life is Unfair, cleverly entitled 'The Next Chapter.' And yes, you were probably hallucinating. Ghosts hiding Malcolm? No way. The truth is probably a lot stranger than that. Speaking of strange, guess who the next chapter is about. 

  
  


CHAPTER THIRTYONE: SNAPSHOTS OF DEWEY

  


Dewey awoke early and dressed quickly. Although there was always enough to eat at breakfast, old habits die hard. He was almost to the Great Hall when he met another early riser.

"Dewey," Michael Davies called out.

"What?" he replied in his typical annoyed voice.

"I didn't say anything to your brother, like you said."

"That's nice."

"He talked to me." Dewey stopped in his tracks when the other boy said that. "Your brother told me he felt bad that he didn't notice my problem, but that I was clearly making progress. Who told you?"

"I don't know," Dewey said and he walked away, going into the Great Hall. He sat down at the Slytherin table and Michael sat down next to him. "How did you know?"

Dewey turned to Michael. "Look, I went to see Malcolm and I was looking for some homework to copy. I saw yours. You write just like this kid at my old school. The one we called Retard. I liked him by the way. I always felt better when I compared myself to him. I knew you had a problem and I had to tell somebody."

"And you faked spraining your ankle just as I was coming by. And you told Madam Pomfrey."

"And because she wouldn't believe me, I told her a teacher told me. Now go away, people are staring at us."

Michael got up. "Thank you. It helped."

"Go away." As Davies left, Dewey muttered to himself, "It never pays being nice to people. They always think you like them."

*

"Hermione?" Dewey asked as he ran into her in the corridor. "Can I ask you a question, about Malcolm?"

"Anytime, Dewey. I know you're 'concerned' about what he is doing."

"I am," Dewey admitted, "but I asked him a question about magic and I didn't really understand his answer."

"Try the question on me," Hermione offered, going through the now familiar routine.

Dewey smiled appreciatively. "What are the natural effects of personal views on the use of magic?"

Hermione smiled as she tried to think of how to answer the question in easy words. "The most obvious effect is the strength of the spell. If you are strongly prejudiced toward what you are doing, if you like performing that type of spell, it will naturally be stronger. The obverse, the opposite of that, is also true."

Hermione explained as clearly as she could, talking for almost fifteen minutes, and Dewey listened intently. He thanked her when she finished, and Hermione continued to the library, happy she was able to enlighten a fellow student.

"Is she gone," Avery said from the alcove where he was hiding.

"Yeah, did you take notes."

"I did. We should be able to write eight inches from this, and the teacher only asked for six."

"We have to be more careful in the future," Dewey warned. "I think she's getting suspicious."

*

Malcolm looked at the class. "I want all of you to try your spells. Remember to say 'Expeliarmus,' clearly and quickly. I'll personally right a letter of commendation for anyone who can take my wand away. Who wants to be first."

Each Slytherin, in turn, attempted their spells. Malcolm judged how well they did by how much effort he had to make to resist. As with the other classes, none of them succeeded in forcing his wand from his hand, but they all enjoyed trying, except for Dewey."

"This is stupid."

"No it isn't, Dewey. You're learning to do magic by actually doing it. You didn't learn to fly a broom by reading about it?"

"No . . . but this is different. This is just casting a spell that doesn't work."

"The spell does work. And I can tell how good you did. But I can't tell anything if you just stand there and mope all day. The least you could do . . ."

"Expeliarmus," Dewey yelled suddenly, and Malcolm's wand flew across the room. "Are you still going give me a letter of commendation."

"Yeah, Dewey. Posthumously."

"I think the class is over," one girl said.

"You're probably right," a boy answered. "Dewey can run fast enough."

The remaining members of the class gathered their belongings and left through the still open door.

*

"Dewey" the figure in the portrait said happily. "It is good to see you again."

"It is indeed," said a second portrait, a matronly woman. "Too many students ignore us. They rarely come to this corridor."

"I like you guys," Dewey said. "It's a lot of fun talking to you."

"Hurumph," A third portrait, a ragged man with a long flowing beard, shook his head. "All of us know why you visit. Not that the reason you gave is completely false. I only wish more students had your interest."

"Here, Here," came several shouts from the other portraits in the hall.

The matronly woman smiled at Dewey. "Why don't you begin this time, Dear."

"That's the spirit," the ragged man cried. "Start right in."

Dewey smiled, and began to sing. "Row, row, row your boat/ gently down the stream/ Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily/ life is but a dream." He repeated the chorus, and when he had finished the first line, the Matron began to sing, "Row, row, row your boat . . ." As she finished her first line, another portrait joined in, and so on until there was a grand chorus.

*

"It's just that you're strange," Dewey told his brother as they sat down on the lawn.

"I'm not strange, Dewey. I'm actually trying to do something."

"But you're acting all weird. You're even being nice to people."

"I'm always nice to people. I'm even nice to you, you little runt," Malcolm paused. "I guess that was unfair."

"You did it again," Dewey yelled. "You actually apologized. TO ME. Malcolm, something really is wrong with you. Ever since you started teaching us, you've become a different person. You even had me looking up to you at one point. That shouldn't happen. I'm your brother."

"Would you like it if I changed back?"

"Yes, uh, actually, no. I like the way you are now. You don't yell at me much and you're fun to be with at times."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Malcolm, people are beginning to notice. Before, they would just laugh at you, but now they wonder what you're up to. Could you try being you're old self again."

"Okay, I'll try." Malcolm looked up and saw a couple of Ravenclaws watching him. "What are you looking at?"

The two Ravenclaws shook their heads. "And I was beginning to think he had changed," one of them said as they walked away.

"That was good, but you need to sneer a little more."

"Thank's Dewey."

Dewey eyed Malcolm seriously. "Remember to be you. Don't thank me. Say what you're supposed to say, and mean it."

[_What am I supposed to say? Oh, Yeah._]

"Shut up, Dewey," Malcolm yelled.

"That was good," Dewey admitted.

*

Cho Chang and her friends were walking by the ice cream parlor when they noticed the little boy crying.

"Is there anything wrong?" Cho asked sympathetically.

"I can't find my mommy," the boy said between sobs, and received several kind remarks and a hug for his efforts.

"I know what we can do," Cho said in a happy tone. "Why don't we get you an ice cream cone, and then we'll wait for your mother. She'll surely come looking for you."

"I-Ice Cream," the boy asked as he tried to control his tears.

"Ice Cream," Cho said in her sweetest voice.

"Can I have two scoops?" Nob asked, giving a carefully orchestrated whimper at the end.

"Oh course you can," Cho said, and her friends agreed enthusiastically.

*

"Draco," Dewey called out.

"What is it," Draco said as he turned to face his least favorite cousin.

"Forget it. Let it be a surprise?"

Draco decided to try his usual tact. "Please don't tell me what the Giant Squid has to say."

"It isn't that," Dewey said, thus sparking Draco's interest. "I wanted to warn you that I'm in town today, and I'm not alone."

Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle, shrugging his shoulders, but they laughed at him anyway. Draco, noticing the lack of fear or respect in his friends, made a mental note to kill Dewey if he had the chance.

They walked into Hogsmeade, and Goyle pointed to a ten year old boy walking by.

"Hi, Draco. Hi Greg. Hi, Vince."

"Hi, Dewey." Draco said politely.

"Have you seen Nob?"

"Is he lost?"

"Probably. He got lost a couple of weeks ago, and a policeman bought him a lemon ice while waiting for Mom to show up. Since then he's gotten lost seven times so far. Have you seen him?"

"No."

"Good," Dewey said as he went into Zonko's Joke Shop.

*

"Congratulations," Matthew Zeller's father said as he shook hands with Fred, then George. "You are now the proud owners of Number 93 Diagon Alley. It is my sincere hope that your business is successful.

The twins gave identical smirks. "Your son isn't the businessman you are. He let us know why you wanted us to buy the shop. If we do well, you can raise the rents on the shops around us."

"True," Mr. Zeller replied with a smirk of his own. "And if it doesn't, at least I have rid myself of one unsuccessful investment." He openly laughed at the twins' reaction. "Welcome to the world of business, where every silver cloud has a dark lining. And may I say that I do hope your shop is successful. I mean that as a businessman and on a personal level."

The twins left The Three Broomsticks with the paper in their hands. "We have a shop," Fred told his brother.

"And a hefty mortgage," George replied. "We need to do something to celebrate."

They looked at the ice cream parlor and smiled. 

Walking in, they spotted a small group of Ravenclaws.

"Oy, Cho," Fred called out in a friendly fashion and she waved back.

"Nob?" George said. "What are you doing here?"

"You know him?" Cho Chang asked.

"He's our neighbor. That's Malcolm's baby brother."

"I just remembered where my mom is," Nob said as he rushed out the door.

"That . . . That," Cho sputtered as her friends stared at the fleeing boy. "I'm going to kill Malcolm."

*

"There he is." Fred pointed to a figure hiding behind a rain barrel.

They walked over casually and picked Nob up by the collar and held him over the barrel. "Someone has been busy."

"Please don't hurt me," Nob cried convincingly.

"Do you notice how he can cry on cue," George said. "It's obviously a family trait."

"Nob," Fred asked. "Where's Dewey?"

"I don't know. He ditched me as soon as we got here."

"Another family trait. You don't seem too upset, Nob."

"I was getting lost. I already had ice cream and two candy bars."

"Good haul," George admitted, "but we need to send you home now. How did you get here?"

"The old man told me I was here."

"That's what we like. A good clear answer."

"Can I ask a question?" Nob asked. "Isn't your arm getting tired from holding me up?"

"Now that you mention it," Fred replied, "No. And if it does, I'll hand you to George."

"We could be mean," George threatened, "and turn you over to," his voice became sinister, "The High Inquisitor."

"That toad?" Nob laughed as he saw through the threat.

"You know her?"

"She was at my adoption hearing. Malcolm told me who she was, and Francis told me his wife yelled at her and said she should fly back to her swamp."

"Swamp?" George said looking at his brother.

"You thought of something?" Fred inquired.

"It may be nothing. I'll tell you later, but right now we need Nob to start whimpering."

Obligingly, Nob made sobbing noises and said in a pitiful voice, "Please, please, don't dunk me again."

Smiling, Fred said, "We dried you off after the first time. Didn't we?"

"What are you two doing?" Cho Chang said angrily.

"We're punishing the little tyke for taking advantage of your good nature."

"A service we are happy to render free of charge," George added, while Nob kept whimpering, "Please don't, please don't."

Cho was about to berate them, them she remembered she was dealing with the Weasley twins AND Malcolm's brother. "Dunk him once and let him go. That should be enough."

"Sorry, Nob," Fred told the boy, and let go.

*

"Malcolm," George called out as the twins entered the common room.

"Hi."

"Cho Chang wants a word with you when you have the time. It concerns your brother."

"Big Dewey or Little Dewey?"

"Nob," Fred answered. "It seems he was in Hogsmeade today playing little boy lost. He finagled an ice cream cone from our Ravenclaw seeker. She is highly upset."

[_This is great. Now Dewey is bringing Nob with him. I don't know why Mom and Dad don't just move into Hogwarts._]

"He did go for two scoops?"

"I believe he did," George replied.

"Good, I'd hate to think he was a slacker."

*

It was early April. Ron was walking by himself after another dreadful practice when he heard a familiar voice behind him. He turned around to see a first year in Slytherin robes.

"Hi, Dewey."

"Are you still upset about the last match," Dewey asked as he walked with Ron.

"I'm over that. Now I'm upset about the next match."

"You still have a month. And we lost our last match. If you win with a good score you can still take the Quidditch Cup."

Ron smiled. "That isn't a proper Slytherin attitude."

"You were my friend first," Dewey said. "I'd like my house to win, but . . ."

"Thanks, friend," Ron said and patted Dewey's shoulder.

"The Giant Squid thinks you worry too much."

"He said that?"

"She."

"Um, she said that?"

"What she said was that you thrash the seaweed needlessly, but that's what she meant."

"Um, Dewey. About the Giant Squid."

"What about her?"

"I have experience with people hearing things," Ron said carefully as they neared the lake. "I should tell you that everyone of us knows that you really can't hear what she is saying. All of the students are looking at you as though you're strange. You need to simply stop telling people she talks to you."

"I trust you, Ron," Dewey said. "If that's what you think I should do, I will." He looked up and shouted at two fourth year boys throwing rocks into the lake. "Hey guys, don't do that. It really annoys the Giant Squid and she says you should stop."

"Right, you nutter," one boy shouted back and threw a rock in their direction. As Ron pulled Dewey out of the path of the rock a giant tentacle came out of the lake and, in whiplike fashion, smacked the two fourth years into the nearest grove of trees, some twenty yards away.

"They'll be fine," Dewey said. "She aims for the bushes just past those trees, and she rarely misses."

"Oh," Ron nodded as they walked back to the school. He looked back to see the two boys crawling out from the trees. "And she thinks I worry to much?"

"Yeah. You just need to relax."

*

Dewey walked over to the Gryffindor table and called out his name in a singsong voice. "Mal-colm."

[_I recognize that tone. That's his I'm being a jerk voice._]

"What do you want, Dewey?"

"Professor Umbridge made me a Junior Inquisitor."

"I'm so happy for you."

Dewey smiled widely. "I can take house points away from anybody for any reason."

"Is that so?" Malcolm said as he looked Dewey in the face. "I know what you're thinking, Dewey. You're thinking you can walk over here and make excuses at my expense. Well, I hope you remember the Potions Class I taught. They forgot to take my privileges away. I can take house points away, too." Malcolm warmed up for the final blow. "Any house points that you take away from ANYBODY will result in an equal number of house points being taken away from your own house."

Dewey nodded his head. "I can live with that. TWENTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR BECAUSE OF YOU ARE YOU."

"Dewey?" Hermione asked in surprise. "You do understand that you also lost twenty points from your own house."

"Yeah, but Professor Umbridge said she'd give me fifty points if Malcolm was the first one I took points from. Of course, he's the only one I wanted to take points from anyway."

Harry Potter looked up. "That WAS clever thinking on his part."

"I hate to admit this," Ron admitted as Malcolm's brother happily walked away, "but Dewey's fitting in well with the Slytherins."

"It's worse than that," Malcolm admitted. "I was bluffing."

"Then you don't know?" Hermione asked.

"Know what?" Malcolm asked in return.

"As of this morning, Umbridge is Headmistress of Hogwarts."

"Should we make him stop," Harry asked. "That looks painful."

"It is," Ron said. "I think we should let him continue. What do you think, Hermione."

"I'd like to stop him, but I'm curious how many times he'll hit his head on the table before he stops on his own."


	32. Time Runs Out

A/N: I have corrected several errors today. Rose Zeller has been given back her proper name, and Roger Davies is now back in Ravenclaw. I have to learn to stop writing after midnight on work days.

I have to make note of Romm's review. It brings to mind a wonderful youth of watching my favorite show.

  
  


CHAPTER THIRTY TWO: TIME RUNS OUT

  


"Are you still teaching your classes?" Hermione asked, when she and Malcolm were alone in the library.

"Why not?" Malcolm said. "Umbridge is convinced that nothing is going on. I know she looks through the window into the classroom on an irregular basis, but she never looks inside."

"But she doesn't trust you at all? How have you been able to get away with it?"

"Dewey. She's convinced that he'll tell her anything I do that I not supposed to. You know what's stupid. He snitches on me about anything that isn't related to the class."

"And he does that to show her he can be trusted."

"He does it because it's fun."

Hermione was confused, but admitted to herself that they were talking about Dewey. "Then why does he keep the secret about the class."

Malcolm gave her a funny look. "What do you mean? Something like that, it's family. He knows I'm doing it to spite Umbridge. You should understand that."

Hermione began to say no, then stopped. "Family?" Understanding came in a flash. "But he would tell your mom in an instant if he thought you would be punished."

"Right."

"And if it were Reese, instead of Umbridge, he would tell anybody."

Malcolm wavered. "It depends. If he thought Reese would get the worst of it, he might keep his mouth shut."

Hermione smiled. "But Umbridge acted against you, and Dewey automatically took your side."

"Yeah, that's about it. We both picked up on her attitude the first day we saw her. I knew she would hate us anyway, so I told Dewey how to act. Since he gets to be mean to me when people are around, he went for it."

"You planned this from the first day?"

"Not all of this. Dad made me promise to help keep Nob safe. That's how we got involved in all of this."

"Wizard's promise?"

Malcolm nodded. "The same thing. I promised my Dad and it was something important, to us anyway. I had it all worked out. Once Umbridge took over, we would arrange a hearing, but then I was talking to Dobby and had a better idea, and a faster one. Nob is safe now from anybody trying to take him away, but that left me worse off with Umbridge than I had planned. You do know that I am relieved from taking any classes?"

"That is common knowledge."

"Did you know that I've been forbidden to take any classes?"

"Forbidden?"

"As of this morning. Umbridge told me immediately after breakfast. All I am supposed to do is sit in her classroom and make sure everyone reads. Until recently, she only showed up for three classes of her own, including yours. Defense class is the biggest joke in the school. Except for the first years, and a few second years who came by to talk, no one has been in that classroom for months. And Umbridge didn't bother to notice."

"I can't believe that," Hermione said. "She's not that stupid."

"She's that arrogant. She refuses to believe how everyone really sees her. Even that girl from Ravenclaw that snitched on you didn't tell. Why should she give up a free period?"

Hermione nodded. "And Malfoy and his friends didn't tell either. They're only taking advantage of the situation."

Malcolm smiled. "Doesn't that make you feel better?"

"No. Your cousin is still . . ."

A lone firework came flying into the library at that point, a remnant of the display the twins put on in honor of Umbridge's promotion. Malcolm went to the door and held it open, while Hermione caused a small breeze to blow it back outside.

When he sat down again, Malcolm told her, "Do you know what I do now? I sit in her class and watch her sit in the class watching the kids sit in the class."

"How are you dealing with it?"

"I'm thinking I'll talk to Fred and George. They've always been good for ideas."

"Then classes are over?"

"For a while. Dewey's working on Umbridge, with a few choice comments about what I'm good for."

Madam Pince came over to the table. "Malcolm, the," she paused as a distasteful look crossed her face, "the headmistress wants to see you."

Malcolm smiled at Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

* 

"Hem. Hem. Malcolm, have you done as I have asked?"

"Yeah," Malcolm admitted. "Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion that will prevent, um, induced illness. It only lasts for an hour but she warned me that it has a couple of side effects."

"And that is?"

"Did you ever smell a dungbomb?"

Umbridge raised her eyebrows. "I regret to say that I have. Why?"

"Well, that's the side effect. You can make the students take the potion but they smell, um, bad the whole time."

"And the other side effect?"

"It's age specific. She has plenty for the first years. Below a certain age, they can take the potion almost immediately, but she needs a week to age the potion for the second years, two weeks for the third years, and so on."

Umbridge thought briefly. "Tell Madam Pomfrey to keep making the potions for the first years, and I will test them. If they are satisfactory, I will tell her to make the potions for the other classes."

*

Malcolm stood waiting in the DADA classroom with ten vials of a revolting looking potion. Headmistress Umbridge sat at her desk smiling maliciously as the first year Gryffindors entered the room. One by one, he distributed each potion, while Umbridge observed to make sure it was consumed. Almost immediately, a horrible odor filled the room.

"Hem. Hem. Malcolm, you may monitor this class. I," she coughed twice, "have my official duties."

Umbridge walked out of the room.

Malcolm looked at the class. "Most of you should remember what to do."

Matthew Zeller grinned and grabbed hold of his nose. "I do not smell a thing." Nine other student followed his actions and the air cleared almost instantly."

"The question is," Malcolm said, "do you want to continue with classes. It will be dangerous, and I can't guarantee that classes will occur on a regular basis."

One by one, the students pulled out their wand and set them on their desks as they took their seats.

"Today, we will talk about offensive spells. You may want to take notes. I'll be describing the most common hexes and their counter curses. If there is time, I'll give you some practical experience. The hexes I will be discussing are . . ."

*

"Malcolm?" Fred asked.

"They worked."

"And?" George asked.

"They taste terrible. You really have to work on that part."

"That should be no problem," George admitted.

"Now that we know the Weasley Stinker works as a potion," Fred concluded.

*

Two weeks later, Hermione was in the library, when Malcolm joined her.

"You're teaching again?"

"Yeah. Umbridge liked Madam Pomfrey's potion so much she's having me monitor the second years again as well."

"Madam Pomfrey's potion?"

"Yeah, Fred and George managed to make their Weasley stinker into a potion, but it tastes terrible. They're still working on that part of it."

"How many vials did they have?"

"They only had fifty, but I used most of them to show Umbridge that it works. Now I give the kids lemon juice since she watches from the other side of the door."

"That constitutes an act of fraud."

"Any student may complain at any time that I did not give him or her the proper potion."

Madam Pince ordered them to be quiet when they started laughing.

"Speaking of the Twins'," Hermione asked, "have the first years been using any of their, um, products?

"Of course not. That's why Dewey suggested it."

"It was Dewey's idea?"

"Yeah, protect yourself against something that isn't happening. It helps keep the teacher, I'm sorry, the headmistress on her toes."

"Do you need any help?" Hermione offered.

"Well, I've already thought about giving them a final and grading them. To let them know exactly where they stand. I can handle the written test, but I'll need help giving them the practicals."

"And I'll be doing my OWLS. Sorry, Malcolm."

"I'll work it out. I'll need to ask them first."

"And if they say no?"

Malcolm cocked his head curiously. "I don't think they will. It's funny, but I think they want to continue with the game. I know they like learning the spells, but I think they like the danger of it. You know. They might get in trouble for doing what they're supposed to be doing."

"In my first year," Hermione admitted, "I would have refused on principle. It is funny when you think about it, because you are the one with principle."

Malcolm shook his head. "I don't want to hear about how much I've matured."

Hermione grinned. "You are the proof that principle and maturity are not dependent upon each other."

"Thank you. I think."

*

Malcolm checked the hallway carefully before he closed the door.

[_I am officially Paranoid._]

He turned around and addressed the Hufflepuffs. "Did any of you have a chance to practice the Jelly Legs curse." He pointed his wand at the boy on the floor who was trying to crawl into his chair and called out the counter curse. "Did anyone practice before coming to this class?"

Amid the quiet laughter, Malcolm pointed to Rose Zeller and another girl. "Choose who goes first, and the other stand in the middle of the cushions I've piled over there."

"Sir?" one of the students pointed at the door.

"Hey, Malcolm," ten year old Dewey said as he walked into the classroom.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in school."

"There was a suspicious fire. We had a half day." Dewey looked up angrily, "I didn't do it."

"Fine. You're innocent until proven guilty. What do you want?"

Dewey shrugged his shoulders. "Peeves said you were here. I thought I'd say hi."

Malcolm frowned. "You thought you'd bother me in class."

"Yeah, the toad lady gets mad when I show up."

[_I know they're laughing. I'd laugh too if I didn't have to deal with Dewey._]

"Malcolm, are you the teacher?"

"Yeah, Dewey. I'm the teacher. The toad lady didn't want to stay."

Dewey's face lit up. "Can I help you teach?"

Malcolm smiled. "Sure you can. Class, we will be testing our curses on my little brother, so grab your wands. Dewey, stand against the wall over there so everyone has a clear shot."

Dewey fled the room as quickly as he had entered.

[_And I called him stupid._]

EJ and Amber were walking down the hallway trying to think of a good reason for being late to class when Dewey barreled into them.

"Dewey?" EJ asked. "Why are you running? What happened?"

"They didn't follow?" Dewey asked, and looked back to see if anyone was coming. "Malcolm was teaching a class and he was going to make everyone curse me."

"Malcolm doesn't teach any classes," EJ told him. "He's only sitting there to watch them read."

"But they were standing up and holding their wands." Dewey was puzzled. "Then Malcolm isn't a teacher?"

EJ shook his head.

Dewey grinned. "Then that means he's not supposed to teach. And I know who to tell."

EJ and Amber watched as Dewey quickly ran off. They looked at each other quizzically, then walked to the DADA classroom. EJ saw everyone sitting there, reading as usual, and opened the door to see what was really going on."

"That was good, Mitchell. Now try the counter curse," they heard Malcolm say. He turned around. "Come in and close the door."

Once they were inside, Malcolm turned and cast the counter curse on Mitchell's partner then turned back. "I need you to promise not to tell anybody."

Amber stared in awe. "You are teaching!"

"He's a great teacher, too," one of the girls offered. "You won't tell, will you?"

EJ's eyes went wide. "I don't have to. Dewey is going to."

"WHAT?" Malcolm asked calmly.

"We didn't know. We told him you weren't a teacher and he ran off saying he knew who to tell."

Malcolm thought furiously, "He'll probably tell Snape. I need help. Vector might know what to do. Look, I've got to go."

"Wait a minute," EJ said. "Where are you going?"

"Professor Vector. She should know have to handle this. If Umbridge hears about this, and believes Little Dewey, we're all dead."

"Will it work?"

"Somehow it will," Dewey said, and they looked to see the first year Slytherin standing there.

"And why are you here?'

"I wanted to watch, so I ditched my class. I know what's going to happen but I never knew how. Like with Nob getting adopted."

"Well, I'm not wasting any time," Malcolm said, and told the class they were dismissed. He then transformed and flew out of the window and up to the floor where Professor Vector had her office.

[_It's a lot faster than taking the stairs._]

As he changed back and turned the corner to the corridor where her office was, he saw Dewey. His younger brother was looking back at him. Dewey was scared at first but quickly smiled as he realized that Malcolm could not stop him in time. Dewey opened the door of the office and ran inside, slamming the door closed behind him.

Malcolm paused as he realized that Dewey ran into Vector's office. He then ran as quickly as he could, to surprise Dewey before his brother realized that the Arithmancy Professor would not help him.

With more force than necessary Malcolm opened the door wide and stepped in. The door made a thud as it hit something and bounced back. There was the sound of glass breaking followed by a flash of light.

"Come in Malcolm," Professor Vector said calmly. "I was telling Dewey not to hide behind the door but he doesn't like to listen."

Malcolm looked behind the door but saw no one there, although there were pieces of broken glass on the floor. He noticed that one shard seemed to be sticking in the wall as it rested on the doorstop.

"It is a false wall," Vector said calmly. "With a very interesting device behind it. Don't put your hand in there unless you want to join your brother."

Malcolm turned around slowly. "There's a time machine behind that wall?"

"I wouldn't call it a machine, but yes. A simple doorstop keeps the door from hitting the wall, and the glass case is enchanted to feel like wood. The false wall is there for general use. It is usually very convenient."

"And Dewey?"

"He had a couple of minor cuts, and a bad case of shock when I found him, but he recovered quickly."

Malcolm shook his head. "It was my fault after all."

Vector nodded. "Yes it was, now that I know what happened. Why didn't you open the door in the normal fashion."

"I, well, I, you see," Malcolm stammered.

"You wanted to give your little brother a scare."

Malcolm nodded. "I thought it would be funny. He was . . ."

"He told me," Vector said.

"Was I right?" Dewey said from the doorway. EJ and Amber looked on from behind him

"Completely," Professor Vector said. "I owe you one Chocolate Sundae on our next trip together to Diagon Alley."

Malcolm almost laughed. "Then that's how you knew about my teaching the class."

Vector smiled with him. "And five minutes after meeting Dolores Umbridge, I eagerly awaited the chance to help you. I fear she is not very well liked."

EJ and Amber, their curiosity piqued, decided that it would be easier to explain why they did not show up for class then to explain why they were late. They followed Dewey into Vector's office to find out what had happened. As Professor Vector was explaining things to Malcolm, Amber noticed the glass on the floor. She looked behind the door and saw the same piece of glass leaning on the doorstop, the one that looked to Malcolm like it was sticking out of the wall.

"What is it," EJ asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"It's a false wall," Amber said, and stuck her hand through it to show him.

Everyone turned as there was another flash of light.

"What happened?" Dewey asked in surprise.

"EJ and Amber," Malcolm said in surprise and shock. "They weren't here when Professor Vector explained about what's behind the wall."

"Yes," Sinistra said. "She noticed there was a false wall and stuck her hand in there. She was such a foolish girl." The Professor arose and walked over to a small fireplace mounted at the same height as her desk. She threw powder into the flames and then put her head inside. "Darling, it happened."

"I told you it would be today," a man said from the other end.

"And you were right, as usual."

"Are the children still there?"

"I think they're too curious to leave."

"Then tell them," the man said, "and bring them home for dinner."

Professor Vector pulled her head out of the fireplace and the flames returned to normal. "EJ was always a character," she laughed. "He never even thought about how the two of you might feel. After all, for you it only happened two minutes ago.

Malcolm's jaw dropped. "Amber?"

"After all these years," she said in mock surprise, "you still remember my name. Yes, Malcolm. I knew that you were teaching that class because Dewey told me, fifteen minutes ago, when I was walking down the hallway with EJ. If we weren't late for class, none of this would ever have happened, at least not to EJ or myself, but I don't think you want a lecture on time theory. Please sit down. We have a great deal to talk about, and now I finally can."

Malcolm and Dewey sat down in the chairs that suddenly appeared, and Amber paused briefly to repair the glass door to the cabinet behind the false wall. "Shall I begin with the great revelation, or simply tell you the story of my life."

"The Great Revelation," Dewey said. Malcolm thought briefly and nodded his head.

"Wonderful," Professor Vector said. "EJ will be upset that he won't see your reactions, but I will tell him in glorious detail."

"And the great revelation is?" Malcolm asked.

"Hal was always my favorite grandchild." She smiled widely as both boys stared at her. "You boys realize of course that your father is a Squib. It was sad. He had such an open attitude. His parents finally erased his knowledge of magic and let him live his life as a muggle, and I think we all agree he's happier because of it."

"Wait a minute," Malcolm said. "You mean that I've been going to school with my Great-Grandfather?"

"And your Great-Grandmother."

"How far back in time did you and EJ go?"

"Seventy years is a nice round figure, we'll leave it at that. Remember, dear, for a wizard I'm only middle aged." Amber smiled again. "Now for the simple history lesson. EJ and I appeared in this very room in the early part of this century, much to the surprise of the Arithmancy Professor at that time. We explained what happened to us, and he was very understanding. He made it a point to suggest we not tell him our real names. I changed my last name to Smythe, but EJ had to ask about the name Vector. No one had heard of it, and he adopted that as his last name to attract the attention of anyone who might know . . . well, as it turned out, anyone who knew me."

"What was Dumbledore like?" Malcolm dared to ask.

"He wasn't there at the time. He didn't start teaching until some ten years after I graduated. I met him casually but I never told him my secret. He only found out after he became headmaster and reviewed the official records. I proud to say that I had already obtained my position, and did not owe it to any other circumstance than my own ability."

Dewey raised his hand. "Are you going to be sentimental about everything? I just want to know what happened."

"Dewey, shut up and let her talk," Malcolm said.

Amber smiled. "Don't yell at him, Malcolm. Instead tell him who he inherited that attitude from."

Malcolm grinned. "Yeah, Dewey. You inherited your attitude from Great-Great-Grandfather Binns."

Dewey swallowed hard. "You mean . . . Professor Binns?"

"Yes, dear," Amber said. "It's seems that my oldest boy married his youngest granddaughter. I have a picture of him. He gave it to me when he saw the family picture of you and your brothers."

Dewey took the proffered picture and stared in surprise. He saw himself, but in old fashioned clothes and holding an ancient broomstick that still looked new. "I'm doomed," Dewey cried.

"No you're not," Malcolm said consolingly. "Just don't ever become a teacher."

Professor Vector cleared her throat. "I was thinking that we might prefer to finish this discussion over dinner, if either of you are interested?"

"You mean in the Great Hall?" Dewey asked. "With everyone looking at us?"

"No, you silly boy. I mean at my house. I think I can sneak you out of here and get you back without serious problem. That is if you would like a home-conjured meal."

"Sure," Malcolm agreed readily, "but could I look at that device?"

"I don't see why not." Professor Vector walked over and removed the case from the hidden closet. As she slowly opened the case she gave them a warning. "The only safe places to touch the device are the two handles to carry it, and the knob and dial which adjust the amount of time that is traveled."

"When was this made?" Dewey asked.

[_That really is a stupid question. It's a time machine. It could have been made, um, anytime._]

"That's not important," Malcolm said. "Amber, what are you doing with this machine."

"It's an ongoing project for EJ. He thought that the Professor for ancient runes might understand what the buttons are for. Unfortunately, these are not 'ancient' runes."

"But what are you trying to do?"

"We're trying to turn it off," Amber answered.

"That's easy," Malcolm said. "Let's do safety first." He turned the knob to the plus sign, meaning the future, and adjusted the dial to the lowest amount of time. "Sixty three seconds?"

The professor shrugged her shoulder.

"Anyway," Malcolm explained. "This rune here is the symbol for a stop sign. It obviously is the button to push to turn it off." Malcolm pressed the button and disappeared in a flash of light."

"I guess he was wrong," Dewey commented.

There was a knock on the door, and Hermione Granger entered. "Professor Vector, I'm sorry to bother you but I was told that Malcolm was here."

"You've just missed him, Dear, but you might want to wait. He'll be back in a minute."

*

"There he is," the old man said as he spied Malcolm. "Come give your Great-Grandfather a hug."

"This is extremely embarrassing," Malcolm said as EJ grabbed him in a bear hold.

"This is a cool house," Dewey said as he looked around the living room with it's assortment of devices displayed atop the various bookshelves. He walked over to the window before EJ could give him a hug, and looked out over the ocean from the top of a craggy cliff. "This is great."

"We moved here after your Grandfather went across the water," EJ explained. "Except for our youngest, the rest of our children moved there as well."

"I've met most of them," Malcolm said angrily. "They don't think much of my dad, and they hate my mom."

"Too true," EJ admitted. "When your father was a boy, we had high hopes for him but he never developed any real ability for magic. My son and his wife were disappointed, and they failed to keep it hidden. I think I was the only one who thought it cruel that they removed his knowledge of magic. They never forgave me for trying to interfere."

"Did they make Dad forget his name, too? After all, I'm his son and his father is your son, but my name isn't Vector."

"That isn't it at all," Amber said as she came out of the kitchen. "It seems that Vector didn't sound like a good American name. Your grandfather took his wife's maiden name. It was a business move."

Malcolm laughed. "Was he in Slytherin by any chance?"

EJ nodded. "He was, which shows that Dewey is also following in a family tradition."

Dewey looked over from the window, "Then he should be proud of me? Why didn't he say something to us?"

"Your mother," EJ explained. "She was not very popular with the family, and now that they know her background it could be a long time before they talk to any of you. Your Grandfather was never a good friend of the Malfoys."

"Dinner is ready," Amber called out and ordered everyone into the dining room.

As Malcolm stood up, he asked another question. "Where do you work? You were here when we arrived and then Amber prepared dinner. I was curious."

"I'm an Unspeakable, Malcolm. Do you know what that means?" Malcolm nodded. "And Amber and I usually trade chores, but because I remembered the correct date she has to prepare the meal today."

Amber smiled. "That is something you should appreciate. EJ is industrious but his meals tend to be . . . bland."

Malcolm smiled as EJ gave Amber a mock frown, then he eagerly attacked the meal in front of him.

*

Malcolm stretched out as he heard his Great-Grandmother call. Sleeping in a house on the edge of the ocean was very relaxing, and he waited for the second call before he got up. He dressed in his robes, which were freshly cleaned, and walked into the kitchen where Dewey was cheerfully eating breakfast.

"Isn't it early?"

"For school, yes, but EJ has already left for work, and I need to finish some of my work before classes begin. I was rudely interrupted yesterday. You were expected but you were still rude."

"It was Malcolm's fault," Dewey said cheerfully.

"It was your stupid idea to hide behind the door," Malcolm pointed out.

"Like I told you to slam the door open."

Amber smirked. "Now I remember why I regretted having children."

[_It WAS Dewey's fault._]

After breakfast was done, Amber gathered what she needed and ushered the boys to the fireplace, arriving at the school moments later. They walked with her toward her office when she suddenly stopped. "Whatever is that smell?"

Malcolm nodded. "It's water? It smells like a damp . . ."

"It's a swamp," Dewey shouted as he pointed ahead of them.

"This is a problem," the Arithmancy Professor said. "Malcolm, could you fly to my office and get my record book. I think I will do my preparation work in the Great Hall."

"I'll meet you there," Malcolm said as he changed and flew across the swamp.

As they walked back to the main entrance Dewey asked about the swamp. Amber smiled. "I expect you will have to ask Fred and George Weasley."

"How do you know they did it?"

"If you look carefully at the rocks in the bottom of that first pool of water, they make out the traditional rune sign for Twins."

"I'm having breakfast again," Dewey said excitedly. "I'll even sit with the Gryffindors."

Amber squeezed his shoulder affectionately. "Please let me know everything you find out."

*

"Mail"s here," someone called out.

"It's just Malcolm," someone else called out and they went back to eating.

Malcolm flew to the teachers table, landed on the floor beside Amber and changed back.

"Thank you, Malcolm," Vector said as she took the book from him. "You may return to your table." As Malcolm walked away she turned to Professor Snape and said, "He has a lot of his Grandfather in him."


	33. They Left Us Here To Carry On

A/N: I must admit that I don't understand computers at times. A few days ago, Phoenix Flight pointed out that chapter 30 did not exist. When I checked, some fifteen hours later, everything was fine. I put it down to timing, as I had only just posted the story. Then this weekend, Jungluer made the same comment about chapter 32. I initially made the same assumption, but when I checked it out, one hour after posting, I received the same message. However, my stats showed that several people had accessed the chapter already. I reloaded the chapter and then received a couple of other e-mails about problems but eventually these things worked themselves out. If there is a problem, the truth is I have no idea what it is.

As for as the previous chapter goes, I must express my own confusion. Some of you readers are confused by it and some of you claim that it cleared things up. Because I am the author all I can say is that I'm happy all of you are still reading this. Here's hoping for the best as I present the next chapter:

  
  


CHAPTER THIRTYTHREE: THEY LEFT US HERE TO CARRY ON

  


As Malcolm was fond of saying, chaos reigned supreme in the weeks following the Weasley Twins' departure. Malcolm would frequently travel down that corridor simply to fly past Filch while he was carrying students across in his pontoon boat. Umbridge made no pretense about teaching her classes as she was forced to run to and fro dealing with every problem.

When the Weasley's Skivving Snackboxes proved immensely popular, Umbridge personally sought Madam Pomfrey's help. Thanks to a timely word from a friendly owl she was able to righteously complain that Umbridge had already used up all of her supplies, and she could make no more potions until well after the end of term.

Malcolm's favorite story was about two of the first years. It was whispered that three members of the Inquisitorial Squad had confronted one of the first years and decided to ask him a few question, when another First Year appeared out of nowhere, and surprised them. Professor Flitwick appeared on the scene moments later, attracted by the shouting. It seems that both of first years cast different spells at the same Inquisitor, with interesting results.

No names were mentioned but one of the Sytherin chasers ended up in the infirmary looking like a human corn flake.

*

"What is it, Mrs. Norris?" Malcolm asked as the cat, clearly frightened, jumped into his arms."

"Malcolm," Peeves said happily. "You've caught her for me."

"Wait. No," Malcolm said as he understood. "You're not putting her in a suit of armor again."

"I have to," Peeves insisted. "I promised the Weasley Twins."

"You're just using that as an excuse."

"It's a wonderful excuse. The cat, please."

"No, she hates being trapped in a suit of armor."

Peeves smiled. "We can compromise."

*

"May I sit here," Anthony asked.

"Sure," Neville said, making room for him.

"Thanks. I'm not popular here anymore, but my headmaster made me come anyway."

"A clever punishment," Neville said. "What did you do wrong?"

"I was brutally honest about the Keeper's skill at the last game. I should have been more tactful."

"I know that. What did you do at your school that they made you come?"

"I told someone that Reese was my friend. You know, Malcolm's brother."

Neville grinned broadly. "I have the honor of being the first student at Hogwarts to meet Reese. I have never met or heard of a friend of his. Did you try apologizing?"

"I even tried begging. They still made me come."

Neville ignored the statement. "To the first years. They're the ones you insulted."

"Oh, them. No. They don't want to talk to me. And what could I say? Excuse me, I acted like a jerk because I don't have any friends, because . . ." Anthony stopped, his face white. "I - I didn't mean that. It slipped out."

Neville acted as casually as he could. "Of course you have friends. You said Reese was your friend. And I know that Ginny was being rough on you the last time you were here. That's why you were in a bad mood. I still consider us to be friends."

"Yeah," Euan said from behind them. "And our team did lose because of her brother's winning skills as a Keeper."

"They're almost as good as his winning personality," Matt added, "but why would you take the word of a bunch of midgets?"

Anthony turned around to look at the two first years. "I'm sorry for what I said."

"Not as sorry as you will be," Euan told him. "The match is starting soon and you have to cheer for Gryffindor."

*

"HELP!" Malcolm yelled.

"Malcolm?" It was Argus Filch. "Are you in that suit of armor? Is Mrs. Norris with you?"

"Yes and yes," Malcolm replied.

The visor opened and Malcolm could see light. Then he heard Filch's voice. "Pass Mrs. Norris out to me, then we can get you out of that suit of armor."

With difficulty Malcolm managed to make room for Mrs. Norris to get by his head. Argus Filch helped her out and sat her on the floor. Malcolm listened, but could not here any sound.

"Mr. Filch? Mr. Filch?

"HELP!" Malcolm yelled.

*

"This is it," Ginny said as they mounted their brooms. "Good luck, Ron."

Ron nervously took his position and the final Quidditch game with Ravenclaw began. He was telling himself to relax when suddenly Roger Davies was in front of him and throwing the quaffle. Ron made a feeble attempt but the inevitable happened anyway.

Lee Jordan announced the score and Ron turned away from the Gryffindors in shame. Unfortunately, he was now looking at the Slytherins who began to sing. In the middle of the crowd stood Dewey, his mouth closed. When their eyes met, Dewey shrugged his shoulders. Ron nodded in response. Dewey was right. It didn't matter what he did.

"Dewey's right," Ron said to nobody, a thin smile forming on his lips. "It doesn't matter. It's a only game. And I'll play any way I feel like." He saw the Ravenclaw, Bradley, approaching with the quaffle, and unconsciously smirked. Bradley suddenly threw the quaffle at a different post then the one his was aiming for. And Ron blocked it. 

*

"He blocked it,"someone yelled, and the Gryffindors cheered.

Neville and Anthony both paused as they noticed the Slytherins raising their voices in an effort to make sure that the save was a fluke.

"We need our own song," Neville said resentfully.

"We have one," Anthony said.

"What do you mean?" Three voices asked him.

"We did this in club football. The other team would have a chant. We'd change the words and chant them back. It was great fun."

"How do we start?"

"I know," Euan said. "Like that line, 'He can't block a single thing.' We make it. "He can block anything."

"Let's give it a go," Neville said and drew some stares when he began to sing, "Weasley is our King / He DIDN"T let the quaffle in . . ."

Three voices joined him by the end of the first verse. Thirty joined in by the end of the second verse. 

*

Ron had a chance to relax after making a quick save. That was when he noticed the singing was coming from a different direction. Then he noticed the words, and smiled. The smile never left his face as the quaffle came in his direction again. He felt exactly like the words they were singing. He felt like he could do anything.

*

"That was a good game," Dewey said.

"Your team lost," Malcolm told him.

"My friend won. That's more important." Dewey looked at Malcolm. "Are you going to do it?"

[_The weird thing is I know what he's asking me about._]

"Yeah, maybe. I think I've got all the pieces. Did you see Anthony at the match?"

Dewey groaned. "I saw Reese. That was enough. He and Millicent made eyes at each other all during the game."

"Well, Anthony was there."

"Is that important?"

"I was already thinking along those lines. Seeing him reminded me of something."

"Malcolm?"

"Yeah?"

"I know generally what we're talking about, but what exactly are we talking about."

"I need to talk to someone first, Dewey. If she agrees, I'll tell you the entire plan. Until then, shut up."

*

"Are you sure about this?" Professor Vector asked.

"Yeah," Malcolm said strongly. "I've never stood up for anything before. I just don't care about Umbridge anymore. I want to do something because it's right."

"Are you sure you don't want to show off."

[_Of course I do. Think of everyone's reaction if I pull this off._]

"That's always part of it," Malcolm said, "but it's like Hermione told me. It's the principle of the thing."

"Aren't you afraid of what Umbridge might do?"

"I'm sure I know what she'll do. That's why I need your help."

Professor Vector smiled at her Great-Grandson. "Then you shall have it."

*

It was on a clear sunny day in early June, Malcolm was prepared for his grand finale. He confidently walked into the Defense class and sat down as forty first years took their seats, their wands resting on their desks in easy reach.

Michael Davies was sitting in the front row, with a piece of cardboard that had a long thin line cut out of the middle of it. "It's to read with," he explained proudly to the girl next to him. "The words always jumble up on me. This way I can read them one line at a time."

Malcolm stood up and handed out the final exam and told everyone they had one hour.

"Hem. Hem. One hour for what?"

Everyone grew deadly silent while Malcolm slowly turned around.

[_I been saying "In for a penny, in for a pound." This is where I find out how much money I've saved up._]

"I'm giving them a final exam. It seems you couldn't be bothered."

"This is foolish nonsense, you horrid boy. I knew I was a fool to trust you."

"That's not true," Dewey shouted from the back of the room. "You were a fool to trust me."

Dewey glared at her with as much anger as she glared at him.

Umbridge spoke quietly but clearly. "I will deal with you, later. You will regret ever crossing my path."

"I can't lipread either," Dewey said lightly. "I made up all those secret reports I gave you."

"Come here NOW," Umbridge demanded.

"No, I quit," Dewey yelled, and ran out of the room before the headmistress could react. Umbridge turned back to the other students and began walking along the front row, grabbing exam papers and tearing them up. "There will be none of this nonsense," she yelled, "I will see all of you punished. And what is THIS?" She was holding Davies's reading aid.

"It's mine. I need that," Davies cried.

Umbridge tore it to shreds. "If you are too stupid to read properly, you deserve to fail. And you will fail MY exam."

A low voice was heard behind her. "Get out of my classroom."

Umbridge turned around to see Malcolm standing at her desk, his wand drawn.

"Yeah, get out," Michael Davies shouted, and Umbridge turned back to strike him. As her hand came down, the stunning spell knocked her back against the wall.

Everyone is the class froze in place. Malcolm had cast a spell that he had taught them, but he had done it without moving or saying a word. Umbridge recovered quickly but now looked at Malcolm with a sense of fear. It was small satisfaction that she ran from the room without regard for dignity, slamming the door behind her.

"Reparo," Malcolm shouted. The simple piece of cardboard reformed itself and Malcolm returned it to it's owner. One by one, he repaired the torn test papers and returned them to the students. "You have one hour."

*

As Malcolm made the last note in his journal, he looked up. "Thank you for coming. I will try to get your grades to you as soon as possible."

The door opened, and several of the first years gasped.

"I see you have already finished," Professor Snape said casually.

"Yes Sir."

"Gather all of those papers together and come with me."

"Excuse me, Sir," Rose Zeller asked.

Snape looked at her without any kindness. "This class is clearly over. You have no cause to be here. All of you will leave. NOW." He turned toward the door. "Malcolm, you will follow me."

*

That evening, Malcolm stood defiantly in the Headmistress's makeshift office. Professor Umbridge had recovered her composer and was grinning malevolently. Behind her was an Auror from the Ministry, one Malcolm had never seen before.

"I have good news for you, young man. When you leave here you will be going home. To the United States. It seems that thoughtful friends have made the effort to rebuild your house, so that you no longer need to live on government charity. But there will be a few changes before you leave. Severus, will you get the door?"

Snape, his lip twitching, opened the door and stepped aside to let Professor McGonagall enter. The American Consul, David Winter, followed her in."

"Hi, Mr. Winter."

"Don't bother, Malcolm. I've been told what you've done. I am only here to take you home."

"I didn't feel like staying anyway."

"Hem. Hem." Professor Umbridge stood up, not that it made a difference. "Everyone here knows what you've done, Malcolm. And there can only be one recourse. Give me your wand."

"So you can break it?" Malcolm asked.

"Obviously." Her smile widened.

"Let me save you the trouble," Malcolm sneered. "I've been doing everything else for you." He pulled his wand out, snapped it in two and threw the pieces on her desk."

"That was a nice touch," David Winter said without amusement. "It's time to go."

"Not yet," Umbridge said. "There is one more thing." She gestured, and the Auror pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at Malcolm. "OBLIVATE."

The force of the spell knocked Malcolm to the ground as everyone else stared in shock.

"That was uncalled for," David Winter said tonelessly. "That constitutes an attack on an American citizen."

"Then file a complaint with the Ministry," Professor Umbridge said casually. "The Minister himself approved the decision to erase ALL memory of magic from the boy."

David Winter's look changed to one of horror. "You have REMOVED three years of memories from this boy. Do you know what that will do to someone his age. He would have been better off if you had killed him."

"Nonsense," Umbridge said. "That boy deliberately attacked a teacher, and not only a teacher but the headmistress of this school. What I have done is to remove his violent tendencies. Permanently. Take him out of here."

Professor McGonagall gave Umbridge a look of pure hatred then went to help the Consul remove Malcolm from the room.

"Severus," Umbridge asked pleasantly as they left, "what did you do with those papers that Malcolm had?"

Snape's face was a stone mask. "I disposed of them in a proper fashion. I assumed you would consider them useless."

"Thank you, Severus. It's nice to know that there is at least one teacher in this school that I can rely upon."

The Potions Professor said nothing but left the room. As he did so, Draco Malfoy came running in, but Snape did not bother waiting to find out why.

*

David Winter thanked Professor McGonagall for her help once they had reached the entrance. Malcolm was still dazed but could walk under his own power, although he showed no signs of being aware of his surroundings.

"It's horrible," McGonagall lamented. "Three years of his life ripped from his mind. Please let me know if there is anything I can do."

"Get rid of that madwoman," David said emotionlessly.

"It isn't that easy," McGonagall admitted, "but we are trying."

"I know," David admitted. "We hear things in the States, but now that I'm here . . ."

"Mr. Winter," a young voice called, and Dewey came running out of the broom closet near the Great Hall."

"Hem. Hem." Umbridge said from the top of the staircase overlooking the entrance hall. "I will take care of you, young man, after I have seen your brother leave this school."

Davis Winter drew his wand, and the Auror drew his in response.

"This boy is also in my custody as the American Consul to the Court of St. James," David Winter said clearly. "If you attack him, it is an assault upon the United States Government." He looked directly at the Auror. "Put your wand away, or I will consider your action to be an attack."

The Auror hesitated, then lowered his hand. "I give you my word that I will take no action provided you leave with your two charges."

"Agreed," David Winter said, and ushered the two boys out of the school.

"Stop them," Umbridge demanded.

The Auror shook his head. "They are in the care and protection of the American Consul. International law forbids any interference with his actions unless they directly threaten anyone. Removing two unwanted students from this school does not qualify."

Umbridge nodded, but a thought had come to mind. She should consider a good time to take care of other business. Her eyes wandered toward the doors as they hung open, and she watched the light coming from Hagrid's hut.

*

"Where are we going," Dewey asked.

"To Hogsmeade for tonight," David Winter said. "We'll catch the Hogwarts Express in the morning, but your brother needs rest more than anything else."

"Is that why you're floating him along instead of letting him walk?"

"Yes, I'm taking him directly to the Three Broomsticks. We'll stay there for the night."

"You don't want to go there," Dewey cautioned. "It's too safe."

David smiled. "I think we want someplace safe. Don't you?"

Dewey shook his head. "No, we don't. We want the Hogs Head. It's not a safe place, and everybody snoops around and tries to find out your business."

"What you're saying is ridiculous, Dewey. Why would we want to go someplace that's not safe."

"Because it won't be safe for people to follow us. Mr. Winter, if anybody comes looking for us, the people who go to the Hogs Head will know about it just because they're nosey. And anybody who looks for us tonight won't want to be seen."

"Dewey, you are officially paranoid."

"Blame Malcolm."

David led the boys past the Three Broomstick and turned down the lane to the Hogs Head Tavern.

*

Malcolm awoke in the late morning on board a train. He was in a compartment, seated with a blanket thrown over him, and a pillow behind his head. There was a strange man sitting across from him, grinning.

"The prodigal son awakens."

"Who are you?"

"David Winter. I see you do not remember me. I'm with the American government."

[_Something tells me that this is not normal._]

"American? As opposed too?"

"As opposed to the British government. Right now you are on a train heading south toward London. We should arrive shortly before noon."

"Okay. I'm on a train heading toward London. Where are my parents?"

"They're at your home, waiting for you."

"Why aren't they here? After all, I'm only eleven. And what am I doing here anyway."

David Winter paused. "Your family went on a vacation, do you remember that?"

Malcolm frowned. "It seems familiar but . . . I don't really remember."

David nodded. "You've had an accident, Malcolm. And it has taken you quite some time to recover. You aren't eleven anymore."

"I'm twelve?"

"Be prepared for a shock. You are thirteen, almost fourteen."

[_I hate being right._]

Dewey walked into the compartment with some pumpkin pasties. He looked at his brother without smiling. "Good morning."

"Dewey?"

[_That guy was telling the truth. It has been years._]

"Dewey, why are you here?"

"What did you tell him?" Dewey asked Mr. Winter.

"He had an accident and that it was three years later from when he last remembered anything."

"Okay," Dewey said, and turned to Malcolm. "I'm here to give you comfort when you awaken to the shock of your ordeal."

"Then why are you wearing a dress?"

"These are ROBES," Dewey answered angrily.

"They make you look like a girl," Malcolm answered snidely.

"At least he's normal," Dewey muttered.

"Hey, Dewey."

"Shut up, Malcolm," Dewey said angrily. "You're in a lot of trouble, and you don't know it." He shoved a pumpkin pasty at him. "Eat this. You're probably hungry."

Malcolm ate the pasty, and two more after that, staring curious at his younger brother but saying nothing. He then made things easier on everyone by falling asleep again.

*

"Can you walk," David Winter asked as he helped Malcolm to his feet.

"Yeah, but I feel strange."

"It's probably because you're taller than you remember. Don't try to walk fast. Concentrate on walking steadily.

[_This is weird. My whole body feels the wrong size._]

Dewey, now in ordinary clothes, led the way from the train, and into Kings Cross Station proper, but Malcolm refused to keep his mouth shut.

"OH MY GOD. We just walked through a wall."

"No we didn't," David Winter said calmly.

"Yes we did," Malcolm insisted loudly. "We just came out of that wall right there."

"What's all this," a porter demanded. "What's the boy yelling about?"

"He's seeing things again," Dewey said in an annoyed voice.

"Seeing things?"

"We just walked through a solid wall," Malcolm claimed hysterically.

"The boy has just recovered from a long illness," David Winter explained. "He still suffers from delusions, but the doctor says they should soon pass."

"Well, keep his quiet, then. He's scaring the healthy passengers." The porter watched them walk off. Out of curiosity, he patted the wall the boy pointed at to see if it was solid, then felt like a fool for doing so.

"I'm having delusions?" Malcolm asked. "Do you mean I'm seeing things that aren't there?"

"Of course you are, Malcolm," David assured him, "but it will pass. You will be back to normal in no time."

"This part is real, though? This is a train station?"

"Yes, it is and we are leaving. There is a car waiting for us. You do remember cars?"

[_That was uncalled for. I mean, if he knew me that would be one thing._]

David walked Malcolm and Dewey from the Station and to the waiting limousine. "Take us to the airport, Ronnie," he said loudly and ushered the boys into the back seat. The driver nodded. As she pulled away, Dewey watched intently out the back window through a strange looking pair of binoculars until the station was out of sight.

"He believed you," Dewey said. "He's not following. He went back into the station."

David let out a sigh of relief.

"Wait a minute," Malcolm said. "Who believed what? What's going on?"

"You have a great many friends, Malcolm, and a fair number of enemies. It seems that your accident has stirred a small hornets nest. We were being followed by either a ministry agent who is loyal to a fault, or an antagonist who wanted to confirm that you are no longer useful. It doesn't matter which."

"An antagonist?"

"I'll explain when I have the chance, Malcolm. I happen to be busy. Dewey, we need the directions."

Dewey leaned forward as the chauffeur looked in the rear view mirror at him. "Ronnie, I think it's your third light you need to turn."

Ronnie gave her best smile. "Yes, Sir. Happy to help." She turned to David. "I don't get to play spy too often in my job."

"How many times have you done something like this?"

"This is my first."

"Glad we could be of service," David answered.

*

"We're close," Dewey said.

"Pull over. We should walk the rest of the way." David ordered, and Ronnie complied. He ushered the boys out of the limousine but before he closed the door, he said, "Remember, you drove straight to the airport. It was very boring. No one said a thing for the entire trip."

Ronnie laughed. "I'll tell them everything went normal. If I say to much, they'll ask questions."

As Ronnie drove away, Malcolm glared at David.

"Okay, Mister. I demand to know what's going on. What are you trying to do to me?"

"Nothing," David insisted. "I have Dewey here. Why would you think I was trying to do anything?"

"Because Dewey's here," Malcolm said. "If you were really from the American government you wouldn't have me dropped off in some lowlife section of town, especially if we really are in London."

David raised his head and looked up. He let out a sigh and looked back at Malcolm. "Do you want to know the truth?" Malcolm nodded. "We are going to a house of an old friend of yours that you have never met. We don't know where it is, but we're hoping to run into someone who does know. And if we don't find it, anything I tell you will not matter."

[_I don't understand what he said, but his tone says he's scared. And look at Dewey. He keeps jumping at every small noise. And I don't think it has anything to do with the fact that I'm three years older than I was yesterday._]

"Lead on," Malcolm said nonchalantly.

"Dewey?" David said, and the eleven year old led the way to Grimmauld Place.

*

"Cryptic is good," Tonks said as she received the message. "What's all this mean?"

Kingsley smiled grimly. "It means something has happened, and I'm too busy."

"And all I need do is nick around to the hideout and see who shows up?"

"You now know as much as I do."

"I'm gone," Tonks said as she grabbed her broom. Ten minutes later she was covered by an invisibility spell and flying over the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. She spotted two familiar children with an unfamiliar man, and landed in front of them, tripping as she made herself visible. "Wotcher, Malcolm."

"Watch yourself," Malcolm yelled in surprise as his stepped backward and tripped as well.

"Are you making fun of me?" Tonks asked as she stood up.

Dewey gave a sigh this time. "Malcolm, this is Tonks. Tonks, Malcolm doesn't remember you."

Malcolm picked himself off the ground. "And I don't think I want to. Where did you come from?"

David Winter gave a brief explanation and Tonks nodded. "That's what I like. An answer that doesn't tell you anything. Why are you here?"

David smiled. "We need a fireplace that isn't being watched, and a place to hide for a few hours."

"I'll let them yell at me later," Tonks said. "Dewey knows the drill. All of you hold hands and close your eyes. I'll lead the way."

"No," Malcolm said. "This is too stupid. I'm in a run down neighborhood, and now some bubblegum princess wants me to close my eyes. I want to know what the big surprise is going to be."

"Malcolm," Dewey said angrily, "you have to do this. If you don't, you'll ruin the plan."

"What are you talking about, you little runt?"

[_He's not really that little anymore._]

"I can't tell you. Not out here."

"Why? Is this one of YOUR stupid plans?"

"No," Dewey hissed. "It's one of YOURS."


	34. Walking Down Memory Lane

A/N: Thanks to Romm, Myr and Muggle1 for telling me how to correct the problem with the new postings.

In the spirit of one bad joke deserves another. This is for Mandraco. "Professor Umbridge lost her composer, but now he's Bach."

  
  


CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR: WALKING DOWN MEMORY LANE

  


"Malcolm's starting to act weird," Dewey whispered. "I mean, weird even for Malcolm."

"It's the shock," David explained. "He's recovered from the physical shock, but the emotional shock is beginning to take effect."

"Should we stop him?" Dewey asked.

"I suppose we should," Tonks admitted.

"Please don't," Sirius Black said. "I'm actually enjoying this."

They continued to watch as Malcolm berated the portrait of Sirius's Mother.

"Yeah, it's easy for you to sit there and yell about people trespassing, but you don't do anything about it."

"I told you to get out of my house," screeched the portrait.

"Make me," Malcolm sneered. "You're such a coward you don't even do anything. Go ahead, call the police. I dare you, you ugly old windbag."

[_I have no idea what is really going on but it feels good to actually yell at someone. And if I get in trouble, I can just tell the police my name is Reese._]

The portrait was furious. "How dare you, you impudent mudblood."

"That does it, lady," Malcolm shouted. "You're getting a mustache." He turned to the group watching him. "Does anybody have a marker pen?"

"I'll find one," Sirius offered.

*

Piama watched as Francis wrote down the latest information. "How is your family tree going?"

"This is amazing," Francis said. I've been able to trace Dad's side of the family back for five generations without a problem."

"And your Mom's side?"

"Well, we know we're related to the Malfoys but we don't want to admit that to anyone if we don't have to. I did find some relatives of my mom's mother. I told you that Grandmother Death Star was born in Germany, but her family left between the world wars. And this is the part I just found out. Her father, my Great-grandfather, settled in England and stayed here with his son, while Grandma managed to alienate most of the country and probably had to flee to America when she was only eighteen. That means we could actually have normal relatives, and in this country."

"You sound like you need a break," Piama said as she whispered something into his ear.

"Definitely," Francis said as he put his notes away.

A popping noise was heard behind them. "Sorry to bother you," Arthur Weasley said. "I was stopping off at home and thought I would drop by. These are the employment notices I told you I would bring . . . Did I come at a bad time?"

"It's not a problem," Francis said as he let go of Piama, "but you do know that my parents left to go home. It seems the insurance company rebuilt the house for them."

Arthur looked at them in feigned ignorance. "I think that is wonderful. It's nice to know that a small word can go a long way."

Piama looked up. "A small word?"

Arthur smiled sheepishly. "I have a cousin who is, I regret to say, an accountant. As was required over the holidays, I had a short conversation with him where, for lack of anything else to talk about, I mentioned our new neighbors and what happened to their old house." Arthur paused. "To make a long story short, I ended up telling him everything your parents told me, and he had a word with this Issuance company. I believe the word was 'audit'."

Piama hugged Arthur. "Thank you. That was a generous thing you did, even if they aren't my parents, and even if they don't like me, and even if they made it a point to exclude me when they told Francis to visit them soon, and even . . ."

"Piama, he gets the picture," Francis said. "Arthur, what happens to this house? My dad said it was ours until the end of the month."

"It will be sold, probably to some muggle family. I was told it may be empty for quite a while. This house seems to have a reputation." Arthur waved goodbye and disapperated.

"What are you thinking?" Piama asked.

"I was thinking that if this house has a reputation, we might have enough money for a down payment."

"Wait a minute. What kind of reputation does this house have."

"Let me see," Francis said. "My family lived here for almost a year. We alienated the local school board. Oh yeah, Next door is a family of wizards and witches who think people like us are fascinating. So, would you like to stay?

"Do you mean it? Live here?"

"It's a thought."

*

"Wait a minute," Reese said. "What do you mean I moved?"

Headmaster Filch smiled. "It seems that your parents had their house rebuilt, and decided to move back to the States. You will be happy to know that you no longer need to attend this school after the end of term."

"You can't mean that," Reese insisted. "I like it here. It's great. I don't have to go home after classes are over."

"That is irrelevant," Filch said as his smile grew larger. "You will probably fail all your courses anyway because you never study. And your finals begin in three days."

"Finals?"

Headmaster Filch was gratified at the dumbfounded expression on the boy. He walked back to his office with a lightness to his step.

Reese yelled after him, "I will study." He turned around and went to search for Anthony.

"What?" Anthony asked when he was found.

"I said I want you to tutor me and I asked why you were in the broom closet by yourself."

"I . . . I was waiting for someone," Anthony lied, and Reese nodded. "Why do you want me to tutor you now? School is over next week."

"Not now. Tomorrow. I'm going to see Millicent tonight."

"Reese, what do I get out of this? Every time I help you, I get hurt by it in some fashion."

"It's easy. If I fail, I have to take everything again next year." Reese paused. "Hey, then we'd be in the same year. We could go to class together."

"I'm sure it would be fun," Anthony said quickly. "But think of your parents. I'd be more than happy to tutor you."

"Great. Let's go."

"To study? I thought you were going to visit your girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Reese, think about this. Do you really want to bring someone along when you go to visit your girlfriend?"

"Yeah. You can watch out for us."

Anthony nodded. "That's actually a good idea but I can't. I have to work in the kitchen tonight, for some reason."

"What reason is that?"

"I'll think of one."

*

"We're home," Lois said happily. "We're actually back in our very own house."

"And completely brand new," Hal pointed out.

"Can I have my own room?" Nob asked.

"Only until your brothers come home." Lois said, as she opened the door. "Hal, there's no furniture."

"I've thought of that," Hal said quickly. "I've already called the bank about a mortgage on our new home. We can buy everything we want and pay it back over the next twenty years."

"Oh, Hal," Lois said lovingly.

"I told you I would take care of things," Hal said as he kissed her.

"I'm going to the park," Nob said as he quickly walked out of the house. He ran across the lawn and almost ran into his neighbor who was putting up a for sale sign. He politely apologized, surprising his neighbor tremendously.

*

"It's time to go," David said as he pulled Malcolm away from the portrait, which was empty as Sirius's mother had fled to another painting out of Malcolm's reach.

"Promise me," Malcolm said. "You will draw the rest of the mustache on the other side of her face?"

"When I get the chance," David said. "Dewey, are you ready."

"I'll be right there," Dewey called, then turned back to Kreacher. "Next time you're there, tell Aunt Narcissa I miss her."

"Kreacher promises," Kreacher said fawningly. "Kreacher is happy to do favors for a proper wizard."

"Awe," Dewey gushed, "I'm still just a student." He left the old house elf and joined his brother in front of the fireplace."

"You're not the bubblegum lady," Malcolm was saying.

"No, I'm not," Remus Lupin said in a confused tone. "I've only arrived to visit my friend."

"Okay," Malcolm said carefully. "I have to ask because things are a little confusing. Like that lady behind that small window there." He pointed at the portrait.

"You'll like Mother's new look," Sirius whispered to Remus.

"Are we ready?" David said.

"For what?" Malcolm asked.

"We're leaving. We're going to step into the fireplace and travel to your Great-Grandfather's house. He's expecting us." David paused as Malcolm looked confused. "Did you understand what I said?"

"No," Malcolm insisted. "What I heard was that we were traveling by way of the fireplace."

David nodded as Remus looked confused. As Sirius whispered that he would explain later, David told Malcolm. "It's probably those delusions again. Just pretend that we're really doing that and you should be fine."

[_Right. Like I really need to pretend I'm going mad._]

"Sure. No problem."

David threw floo powder into the fireplace, and called out a name. He motioned Malcolm to walk into the green flame, and the boy did so.

"Why was he laughing like that?" Dewey asked.

"To put it nicely, your brother is going mad. Why do you think he blindly went along with what I said?"

"We'd better follow him," Dewey said, and jumped into the fireplace, with David right behind him.

"You were going to explain what was going on," Remus said.

Sirius's grin faded. "Where do I start?"

"Malcolm would be a good place."

"Good choice. We'll start with the funny parts and end with the grim. Look up there, at mother."

"Is that a mustache?"

"Only half a mustache. Courtesy of Malcolm."

Remus laughed heartily but stopped quickly when he saw Sirius's face. "And what happened to Malcolm?"

"Apparently he attacked Headmistress Umbridge and she punished him by breaking his wand, kicking him out of school, and completely erasing all of his memories of magic. The American counsel is taking the boys to a relative's house for safe keeping. On top of everything else, Death Eaters may have been following them."

Lupin shook his head. "I can't believe that woman would do something like that."

"It gets worse. I assume you haven't heard about McGonagall?"

Lupin sat down quickly to prepare himself for the shock. Sirius gave him a smile full of malice. "Umbridge and several others attacked Rubeus Hagrid around midnight in an effort to sack him. Minerva tried to intervene and was stunned three or four times, right in the chest."

"And Hagrid?"

"The Giant fought them off and fled. He's with Dumbledore."

Remus was about to comment when a loud noise was heard. "Was that Buckbeak?"

"Yes it was." Sirius jumped up and ran to the attic room with Remus close behind. They were still there some time later when the fireplace flared up and a face appeared. It was Harry Potter. And Kreacher was there to greet him.

*

"Hi, Millicent."

"Reese," the Slytherin girl said happily. "You found me."

Ginny Weasley, whom Millicent had taken charge of holding, ran out of the room when she was let go.

"I'll get her," Draco shouted and ran out after her. Out of curiosity, Reese and Millicent followed them into the hallway, closing the door behind them.

"Ginny, wait," Draco called.

"Why should I?" Ginny yelled back.

"You forgot your wand."

Ginny stopped and turned. Draco was standing there holding her wand out to her.

"Why are you doing this? What's your plan, Malfoy?"

"It used to be Draco," the Slytherin said.

"Candy," Reese asked.

"I'd love a piece," Millicent said. "What are these?"

"Jelly Babies," Reese explained.

Ginny fumed. "Draco was a decent boy under trying circumstances. You've proven you are not the same person."

Draco sneered. "I think you're the one who changed. Now that you have that Michael Corner to go out with."

"That has nothing to do with this. Besides, we broke up."

"You did?" Draco asked with a hint of happiness. "I mean, it serves you right."

"Like Umbridge's little puppet would care."

"I was only looking for an opening to get back at her. You wanted to know what my plan was? I'll tell you what it is now. To have you do it for me. That's why I want ALL OF YOU to escape. You can go after her."

"It's nice to see they still care for each other," Reese said.

Millicent agreed. "I've always loved reading about them. It was like a live romance novel."

"And when did you think of this?"Ginny asked.

"About you getting my revenge for me? A minute ago, when we ran out of her office."

Draco and Ginny noticed Reese and Millicent standing next to them. Both of them walked down the corridor for privacy only to see the other two following them. Draco shrugged his shoulders.

"Here, Ginny. Just take your wand and cast some hex on me. Then you can free your friends." 

"And what about your friends?"

"They may still like that . . . witch, but I don't care anymore."

"That isn't like you, Draco. What happened?"

"You don't know?"

"This is great," Millicent said, "Draco now reveals his undying love."

"No, it's to early," Reese pointed out. "You heard the cue. He's going to make a secret revelation that will change both their lives."

"Will you two please SHUT UP," Draco yelled.

*

"How long has he been like this?" EJ asked.

"We've been watching his condition get worse all day," David Winter answered. "I tried to keep him calm by telling him he was seeing things."

EJ groaned. "This is bad. I wish we had an easier time for all of this."

"What do you mean?"

"We need to get Malcolm to believe in magic. He needs to be convinced that he can do magic or the final part of his plan will not work."

David Winter groaned in turn. "And I've been assuring him all day that he was imagining everything."

EJ shook his head. "I wish Amber had managed to get to him in time."

"It's my fault," Dewey said. "I didn't want to tell Mr. Winter too much. I messed it all up."

"No, you didn't," EJ told the boy. "You did a remarkable job, considering what happened. I'm amazed that you're here. Umbridge arranged things so that none of your relatives or the teachers could intervene. She was relying on Mr. Winter's dislike for Malcolm to make his condition as bad as possible. And Amber was amazed when I sent her the message that we were having old friends for dinner."

"Mr. Vector," David asked.

"Please call me EJ. I consider you more of a friend for what you've done."

"EJ, I was curious how you know so much about me?"

"Malcolm told me. That should have been obvious. Now, I need to ask you a question. How involved are you in what has been going on, on the larger scale?"

"I must decline to answer that."

"He knows a lot," Dewey offered. "He even knew about the guy following us through the train station."

EJ smiled. "Dewey, could you check on your brother. Make sure that he's safe."

"He is. He's sitting in front of the window rocking back and forth." Dewey looked up. "Jeezel. Just tell me you want to talk in private. I hate it when people make excuses."

As Dewey walked away, EJ looked at David. "How do you feel about conspiracies?"

"It depends on what we are conspiring about."

"Your name came up about joining a special group."

David smiled in understanding. "Then that would explain the hidden house."

*

"That {DELETED}," Ginny yelled as Draco finished explaining about Malcolm. She began to cry and Draco instinctively took her into his arms.

Reese was in his element. He was in a rage of righteous indignation. "You need them freed," he offered to Ginny. "I'll take care of them for you." He turned around and marched into the room, where Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and Ron Weasley where still being held by four Slytherins.

"What's going on," a sixth year Slytherin girl asked as Reese demonstrated his right hook. He followed it with a one two punch at the next Slytherin, who also went down. Then he turned on Crabbe and Goyle. "Which one of you hit my brother?"

Crabbe let Neville go, and happily raised his hand. Goyle gave a matching smile and raised his hand as well. Both pulled out their wands and cast spells. Unfortunately, Reese grabbed both wands and pointed them at each other. Both Slytherins went flying into the opposite walls and sank to the floor.

"Um, Thanks," Neville said.

"Um, Um," Ron said through his gag.

"You have a nice fighting style," Luna commented.

"Nobody messes with my brother."

*

"After I saw him, I confronted Umbridge. She bragged about it. That's all I can say," Draco said sadly, still holding Ginny in her arms.

"I promise, Draco, if we can ever work things out between our families . . ."

"If the sun ever rises in the west," Draco said without humor. "There is still the problem of your friend Potter."

"He means nothing to me," Ginny said in a haughty voice, forcing a smile to Draco's lips.

"Then Potter isn't a problem," Draco said in the same tone. He added softly, "You'll want these."

Ginny took Harry's and Hermione's wands from him gratefully. "I promise, we'll make her regret it," she added in an equally soft tone. She leaned into him. Their lips met, and Ron said from behind Draco, "Ginny, what are you doing?"

Ginny and Draco quickly pulled apart. Flustered, Ginny looked at Draco who pointed at the wands in her hands. She looked at Ron, and said unconvincingly, "I've got Harry's and Hermione's wands."

"And I'll get them back," Draco said theatrically.

Ginny cast the first spell she could think of, then whispered a quick apology.

Draco attempted to say, "It's quite all right," but it came out as "Aargh," as flying bogies began to attack him.

"Eewww," Ron said when he saw what Ginny had done. "That's disgusting."

"Ron," Neville said as he watched in fascination as Draco ran down the hall bumping into almost everything, "we have to rescue Harry and Hermione."

"Right, follow me. I have a good idea of where they went." They began to run to the school entrance.

Luna paused to look at Ginny. "I'd hate to see the two of you when you have a fight."

"Speaking of fights, would you care to join us?"

"I'd love to," Luna said, and they ran after the two boys."

"You were wonderful," Millicent said.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that," Reese apologized.

"Don't worry about it. They're my housemates. I should have stopped you. I know, I'll make it up to them by forcing you to leave."

"You're making me leave the school. Why?"

"It's a nice night. We should be outside."

"Millicent, you are a genius at times."

"Can I have another candy? No, not a green one."

* 

"It's all true," Dewey said to Malcolm. "Look at my wand. I made that light by magic."

"I know the trick, Dewey. It uses penlight batteries."

"Then what about David changing the chair into a pig."

"I've seen holograms before. All you've done is show me how much more advanced they are then I remembered."

"The fact that he levitated your chair?

"I noticed he didn't lift it very high. You need a stronger wire."

"Malcolm, Magic is real. We've told you that. You remember the trip through the fireplace. Remember when we walked through the wall."

"SHUT UP, DEWEY." Malcolm yelled. "It's all lies, and you know it." He curled up into the chair and began to rock slowly back and forth again.

"He is getting worse," EJ admitted. "We expected this. He lost too many memories, and his mind can't handle it."

"I'm here," Professor Vector called out as she walked in the door, broom in hand. "I had to take the long way, but I think I have what we need."

"Amber," EJ said happily, "you received my last message."

"And it was timely as well. We were able to get back to Hogwarts, but we had to fly from there. Things are deteriorating at the school. I think Umbridge has lost her footing in reality. How is Malcolm?"

"He's getting worse, and more quickly than we thought."

"He needs another shock," Amber said, "and a healthy one." She turned to her companion and said, "It's up to you."

*

"That is so cool," Millicent said. "Do you see how fast they're flying."

"Isn't that the Potter kid. I've seen him fly fast before."

"Without a broom?"

"Yeah, that is different."

*

Malcolm was slowly rocking back and forth, trying not to think about anything when he felt a hand touch his chin. Fearfully, he opened his eyes to see what monster was attacking him now. Instead, he saw a vision.

"Bonjour, Malcolm."

"You're beautiful. Are you an angel?"

"You can still flatter," Gabrielle said. "They told me you had forgotten everything. Did you forget me?"

"If I did, then I am a fool."

"My foolish Malcolm," Gabrielle said and her lips gently brushed his. "You have proven to me once again that magic is real."

"Magic is real?"

Gabrielle smiled. "Of course it is. Magic made you forget, and magic will let you remember. But you need to believe."

Malcolm slowly sat in a normal position. He grabbed her hand and held it with both of his. "If you say it is so, then I believe."

"Malcolm," a voice softly called. He turned around and saw a woman standing there with a large bowl in her hand. "This is a pensieve," she told him. "It contains all of the thoughts that were stolen from you. If you are willing we will show you how to put them back in your head."

Malcolm looked at Gabrielle who smiled encouragingly and squeezed his hand.

[_I would do anything for this girl. I can't believe she likes me._]

"What do I have to do?"

"You need your wand," EJ said and handed it to him.

"I saw him break his wand," David Winter whispered to Dewey.

"He always carries a spare," Dewey whispered back. "After what happened last year."

"He is a clever boy. He thought of everything."

David watched as Professor Vector coached her great-grandson on how to use the pensieve. Malcolm used his wand and took a strand that constituted a memory and moved it toward his temple where the strand seemed to burrow into his skull. Malcolm stood in surprise. "Yes, Dewey's in Slytherin."

"It figures," Dewey frowned. "He would think that was a happy thought."

One by one, Malcolm continued the tedious process of restoring his memories, until there were only a few strands at the bottom of the bowl.

"Do you know what memories those are?"

"Yeah," Malcolm said. "Those are the memories of the master. That's what Uncle Lucius calls him."

"You could leave them."

"I should," Malcolm admitted. "But they are a part of me. If I leave them, I won't be complete,"

"We are the sum of all our parts," Gabrielle said, and Malcolm smiled. He dipped his wand into the bowl and pulled out a strand. As it and the other strands burrowed into his head, his face lost the happy look it had held for most of the night. When he was done, he turned to Gabrielle who saw in his face not anger or fear but contentment. She hugged him, happy to have him whole again.

*

"It was a clever plan," David admitted as they all settled down to what was an early morning dinner. "Malcolm, how did you know she would do what she did?"

"It was obvious," Malcolm said casually. "Umbridge is single-minded. She wants things her way, and she only knows how to hurt people. All I had to do was figure out what would hurt me the most. Then I remembered what Umbridge did when she first met Reese's friend, Anthony. I talked to Grandma, uh, Professor Vector . . ."

"I can live with 'Grandma'," Professor Vector said, and they both smiled.

"I talked to Grandma and we set this up. I stored all of my memories about magic, and a couple of others, just in case. Then I returned to the school. I mean, I would still know everything. I was assured of that. I just wouldn't remember how I learned it all."

"And he came back," Dewey continued, "and gave us the final exam like he promised. Umbridge came in, just as he predicted, and that's when Malcolm changed the plan. He cast that spell without moving."

"He what?" David asked, as everyone else stared.

Malcolm smirked and told Dewey to shut up. "I can cast the Lumos spell without having to gesture or anything,"

"It's really impressive, but . . ." Dewey said.

"But," Malcolm continued. "It's not that impressive. For example, Hermione Granger doesn't even have to stand still to do it. She can cast it while pulling the wand out of her robes. And Dumbledore showed me how he can cast the spell without even holding his wand. Now that is impressive. That's the sign of a powerful wizard."

"What you did was still impressive," Gabrielle said.

"But that's not the spell he cast." Dewey yelled. "Avery told me. Malcolm did the Impedimentia curse."

"The spell you cast?" David asked in surprise. "Malcolm, you did that without even gesturing."

Malcolm stared into space briefly. "I know I can't do that," he insisted. "And I can't remember doing it either. It happened after I finished filling the pensieve."

"Then we'll never know how you did it," Amber said sadly.

"He'll figure it out," EJ said as he patted his wife's hand. "He's a smart boy. Besides, it was a fair trade. One day in exchange for three years."

"I have a question," Malcolm said. "How did you know to bring Gabrielle?"

"That is an easy question," Gabrielle answered. "Love is the most powerful magic."

*

"What happens now?" Malcolm asked after everyone else had gone to bed."

David Winter sighed. "You go home. You won't be going back to Hogwarts, but after what I have heard, I think we can make a case to have your suspension from magic overturned."

"So I can still do magic legally."

"I hate to say this, but yes you will still be able to do magic. Except maybe in England. Which means you will have to go to a different school."

Malcolm smiled. "Madam Maxime has given me a standing invitation. I could go to Beauxbatons."

David smiled. "And they will probably send me there to keep an eye on you. I will tell my wife. I'm sure she will love Paris."

"Dave," Malcolm said. "Thanks for everything. I mean that."

David Winter shook his hand then smiled. "Do you know? This is the first time anyone in your family has resolved a major crisis by using magic."


	35. There's Always Room For Revenge

A/N: I will start by telling Colibi that it isn't over yet. My last chapter in a story is always the epilogue. And I can assure Ranting Idiot and Shkspr1048 that there will be sequel, but I have to wait for book 6, which should be out sometime in 2007.

I apologize to Mandraco for using the word, "audit." In the future I will try to use the word, "inquiry" instead.

  
  


CHAPTER THIRTYFIVE: THERE'S ALWAYS ROOM FOR REVENGE

  


Jenny and Euan looked up as Matthew Zeller entered the common room. Matthew shook his head. No one had seen Malcolm since the day of the exam.

"I even dared to ask Argus Filch. All he did was laugh and say Malcolm was gone for good."

"His brother's also gone," Euan said mournfully.

Jenny laughed. "You should know. You're friends with that Slytherin, Avery."

"He didn't have to help," Euan insisted. "Those three were from his house. He said he did it because of Malcolm. Malcolm said we were all first years first." 

"And Flitwick saw what happened," Jenny reminded him. "Those three will regret trying to do anything."

"They must hate both of us now," Euan said, but he was grinning.

Their's and everyone else's attention was caught by someone coming in. "Professor Sprout?" one of the older students called out.

"I'm here to post your grades," the Professor said happily. "And to tell you that Professor McGonagall is back at school. She's still weak, mind you, so don't go bothering her needlessly."

One by one she posted the grades on the bulletin board, and one of the sixth years noted happily, "They didn't grade us on Defense."

"We didn't learn anything, anyway," someone else shouted.

"Not in her class at least," Lavender Brown called out, and everyone laughed.

"No, dears," Professor Sprout said in a loud voice, "only the first years were graded."

Everyone crowded around the bulletin board, and the first years were pushed out, as usual.

"Professor Sprout," Jenny asked.

"Everyone passed, if only because they showed up," she said.

"But what about Malcolm?"

"An amazing boy," Sprout told them. "He kept meticulous records. You would hardly believe he was only a teaching assistant and not a full teacher. Professor's Snape and Flitwick reviewed the work and graded it. Malcolm even laid out his grading method, so they knew what he intended."

Euan looked up. "Then it was a real class? And those are our actual grades."

"Mostly. Malcolm was a bit generous on giving an average grade, but not as generous on giving an excellent grade. I understand his grading system did not account for anyone doing outstanding work, clearly his only failing. That is why the Professors ignored his guidelines in grading two students." Sprout looked directly at Euan when she said, "Those two were give outstanding marks for putting their skills to practical use."

With that said, the Herbology Professor left to return to her own house.

Hermione looked at the grades and looked back at the first years then back at their grades. She was the first on to notice. "Seamus," she said to the boy next to her, "Did you see this?"

Seamus looked down, and Dean Thomas followed his gaze. "Is that Malcolm's name? It can't be."

It was there for all to see. Every other parchment listed the students and their grades. The Defense class was listed with Umbridge as the teacher and the grade as C for cancelled. The first year sheet contained the grades for all classes and for Defense listed Malcolm.

"What do you think of that?" Hermione asked Ginny.

"He would have loved it," Ginny said as she began to cry. She ran out of the common room before anyone could ask her what she meant.

*

"It's time to go," David said. "We have a long trip back to your home."

"I've been thinking," Malcolm said, as David groaned. "I never did get all of my things from Hogwarts. And Dewey left his stuff there as well. We should go back and retrieve them."

"I promised Dumbledore specifically . . ." David Winter said.

"Then he knows we're coming," Malcolm said with a grin.

David looked Malcolm in the eye. "You are banned from the school."

"Says who?"

[_He heard the news the same time I did. He can't call Umbridge the headmistress anymore._]

David frowned. "What are you scheming about, now?"

"Umbridge," Dewey answered from behind them. "You heard what Grandma said about her."

"You're involved?"

"This," Dewey said emphatically, "is personal. Are you in or out?"

"I can't do anything."

"You can get something for us," Malcolm said. "Here's a list."

David took the list and frowned. "This isn't much. The prepared potions are difficult but not impossible to get."

"The owls have been sent," Dewey informed the American Consul. "Can you get the potions to us by the appointed time."

David rolled his eyes while EJ laughed. "Dewey, you are not a master spy. You are a schoolboy pulling an end of the year prank. And I will not wear a disguise to buy anything, despite your written request."

"Could you at least use the code names?"

"No."

Malcolm smirked. "I told you it was stupid, Dewey. Mr. Winter, we're just trying to be fair. She played with my mind, and I just want to play with hers."

"Let's get you to the school, then."

*

Ginny spoke the password and walked through the old metal door into the courtyard that was the school cemetery. She walked along the worn path to the line of gravestones, stopping at the one where the blond haired boy was kneeling.

"I didn't expect to find you here," she said.

Draco smiled to himself. "I knew you'd come. You always come here when things become too much for you."

"I haven't seen you here before. How do you know that?"

"I've watched from the shadows. We have grown apart, you and I."

"I'm sorry, Draco."

"About what?" Draco said tonelessly. "Your precious Potter won the day again and, because of my generosity, my own father is being sent to Azkaban."

"It didn't have to happen that way. Even Harry . . ."

"Don't say it," Draco told her. "I know about HIS loss, and I couldn't care if I tried."

"I shouldn't have come, once I saw you were here."

"What's done is done," Draco said. "A lot of things shouldn't have happened."

Ginny watched Draco but he never turned to face her. "Malcolm is with his family now, He should be fine."

"He's as good as dead. Nobody his age could handle losing that much memory. If he was a couple years older. . ." Draco sighed. "I went to the library and read about similar cases. You can label Malcolm now as mostly harmless."

Ginny walked up to him until she was directly behind him. "It's hard being alone."

"As you well know?" Draco sneered.

"It's easy being alone in a crowded room. Try being the only girl in a large family. I had to force my way in if I wanted to be part of anything. I hated my brothers for a long time."

Draco laughed. "That could be why we like each other."

Ginny laughed as he said that. "Of course it is. You were the only one I could talk to about my brothers. You were able to understand my frustration."

"You were easy to talk to," Draco said, as he stood up and turned around. Ginny instinctively reached up to wipe away his tears.

"If it weren't for Malcolm," Ginny started to say.

Draco finished her sentence. "Then we would never have met. He was always a strange sort. And when he was around, nothing that happened seemed strange." He smiled at a memory. "Remember when our picture ended up in that magazine."

"The one where we were kissing?"

Draco nodded. "Everyone asked how it happened. I told them I was with Malcolm at the time and everyone nodded their heads."

Ginny giggled. "I gave everyone the same answer. I think that was Malcolm's genius. He never saw anything as impossible."

"That was Malcolm in a nutshell." Draco looked at Ginny. "Whatever happens, I will always love you. Even if we are irrevocably divided by the fates, as I fear we will be."

Ginny took his hand. "If ever there is a chance for us to be together, I will wish for it."

They stood there for a moment, knowing this was their last meeting. Then they gently kissed.

[_This sounds like the plot from a B-grade romance novel._]

Malcolm watched from not far away, a lone owl unnoticed by two people involved in something else. He waited until they went to kiss for the second time.

[_Hey, I'm not completely cruel._]

Then he assumed his human form and said, "Hem. Hem."

*

"I'd swear they were laughing when they wrote this," Lois said as she read the letter from the Ministry of Magic.

"I thought it best to withhold the letter until I heard from our Consul. He warned us of a possible change is your son's status."

"And Malcolm is normal?"

The messenger from the Department of Magic grimaced. "I asked the Consul that very question and he started laughing. I don't know what that means."

Lois smiled. "It means you've never met my family. I'd better get Hal."

"Mom," Nob called. "I need help."

"I'm busy."

"But I'm doing my numbers."

Lois looked for Hal, then looked at the messenger who smiled at her.

"Why don't I help your son with his numbers while you find your husband."

"Are you sure?" Lois said.

"I have a boy of my own the same age. I'm used to doing it."

Lois gratefully pointed him to the kitchen, and went to find where Hal was hiding.

"Hello, young man. Your mother asked if I could help you with your numbers. What seems to be the problem."

Nob looked up and smiled. "I have this homework problem. They're asking what would be the lowest possible value of X if N is positive. Can I assume that N is a whole number?"

"I hear your mother calling me."

Nob glared at the man's back as he left. "They always say that."

*

"Malcolm? I was told you had forgotten everything."

"I did, Draco. It was very depressing."

"And you're here because?"

"I remembered to come back. Are either of you interested in having some fun?"

*

Lois walked back into the house. "Nob, do you know where that man went?"

"He left after looking at my homework."

"They always do that."

"Excuse me," a ghostly voice said.

"Hal, it's Grandfather Binns." Lois looked out the door. "HAL!"

"To be honest," Binns said, "I was wondering if I could borrow Norbert."

"Should I ask why?"

"Malcolm was upset about certain things that happened to him over the past week, and wishes to express his anxiety."

Lois smiled. "Nob, do you want to help your brother get revenge on the toad lady?"

Nob answered by slamming his book closed.

"Thank you," Professor Binns said. "I wanted to help, after what happened, and this way I can do my own small part."

"I'm ready," Nob said as he came out of the bedroom wearing a nice clean shirt.

"That's good," Lois said. "Now go back and put on some pants."

*

"Are you ready?" Reese asked.

"Why not?" Anthony said. "You ruined my life, why not ruin my school career as well."

"Do you have everything I asked you to bring?"

"I have a piece of rope. I couldn't find anything else. You'd be amazed at how few shops sell explosives. I do have these. They're called crackling balls. You throw them at something and they flash with a popping noise. And I have this." He showed him an old handmade slingshot, with a fresh rubber band.

"That will work," Reese said. "Let's get going."

"Where are you going? The fireplace is this way?"

"They closed it off. We have to walk. It's only a few miles. We'll be there in an hour."

Anthony nodded thoughtfully. "Hogwarts is that close?"

*

"Who's coming?" Ginny asked.

"Reese is bringing Anthony. He also said he'd also bring some dynamite but I doubt that."

"What can they do?"

"Anthony is coming because he's given up on arguing with Reese. And Reese is coming because he wants to see Millicent, and possibly hit Umbridge, or push her down the stairs or something like that."

"I think I'll be happy to see Reese. Who else is coming?"

"Professor Binns is picking up Nob."

"Hi, Malcolm," Nob said as he walked into the classroom."

"That was quick," Ginny noted.

"Yeah, I guess it was. Nob, do you remember Ginny and Draco?"

"Hey Ginny," Nob said and gave her a hug.

"Hi, Nob," Draco said affectionately. "Have you been practicing on your broom?"

Nob happily hugged Draco as the memory flooded his brain. Then he remembered the part of Not-Malcolm."

[_Not Again._]

"Nob, what did you do to me?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it again."

Ginny looked up. "Again? Nob when did you do it before?"

"In the courtroom, and when Draco taught me to fly a broom."

Ginny frowned. "That was you? Draco, I told Malcolm those things in confidence. You were never supposed to know about them."

"I never told anybody. Honestly."

"Can I know what those things were?" Malcolm asked.

"NO," Ginny and Draco yelled.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny cried.

"Because I was Malcolm. And I didn't tell anybody else . . . because of you."

[_I wish I knew what they were talking about._]

"Oh, Draco," Ginny said and gave him a kiss as an apology. "Let's wait until you change back. Kissing you when you're like this is like kissing my brother."

Malcolm looked at his reflection while Draco asked, "Why did you bring Nob here anyway?"

Malcolm smiled.

[_I will kill Malcolm. And I won't even bother to hid the body._]

"Can I stay," Nob asked.

"Sure. Dewey's in the infirmary right now, making sure that our mark is comfortable."

"Are there cookies?"

*

"Polyjuice potion," Malcolm said. "I've already put my hairs in them."

Lee Jordan took his potion. "Too bad we can't make this last longer. I wish I could have more than a cameo role."

"She should be moving by then," Malcolm said. "We want to keep her moving. I'm just glad we had an extra potion. Ginny, here's yours."

"Thank you, Malcolm. I look forward to giving that toad a taste of her own medicine." She pulled out a bottle of butterbear, and poured the potion in. "It's a fancy trick I learned with thick potions. They'll sit at the top of the bottle so they're the first thing you swallow, but then you get some butterbeer to kill the taste." She smiled and pulled out another bottle and handed it to Lee. Lee smiled in return and pulled out his own bottle.

Dewey came running up. "Anthony and Reese are in place and the feast is about to begin." He smiled and added, "I had a chance to talk to Professor Flitwick. He said it wasn't a problem." He pointed to the wall. "He cast an illusion charm on Grandfather Binns,"

The small group applauded as the ghostly figure of Malcolm floated through the wall. "Thank you all," Professor Binns said. "I must admit that I haven't felt this lively in a long time."

"This is it." Malcolm told everyone. "We're going with plan A. Take your positions. Grandfather, you can start us off."

*

Dolores Umbridge lay on the infirmary bed. She was grateful to finally be alone. Then she heard the telltale noise of someone in the room. Fearfully, she opened her eyes and saw the ghost. It was that horrid boy, Malcolm. He was dead.

"You're not allowed to haunt me. It's against the rules."

Malcolm floated in the air, saying nothing as Umbridge tried to tell him to leave. Then he spoke in a low voice filled with age. "Who am I? You know me. Who am I?"

"Go away, you obnoxious spirit. You can't do anything to me anyway."

The ghost of Malcolm made as though to throw something at Umbridge. A loud snapping noise and a small flash came from the wall behind her. The ghost paused, and then made the same motion. Anthony, hidden by the shadows, raised the slingshot and fired another crackling ball. This time he scored a direct hit.

Umbridge howled in surprise as she felt something hit her leg, but she did not see the muggle boy. All she saw was the ghost. She jumped out of the bed too quickly and landed on the floor. When she raised her head, the ghost was gone. "It wasn't my fault anyway," she said in self-justification.

"It wasn't mine," Malcolm's voice said from behind her. Umbridge turned around and saw a solid figure of Malcolm holding a pike from a suit of armor. "You cut my memories to shreds. I came to do some cutting of my own." Dolores screamed as the pike came down hitting the floor next to her. She jumped to her feet and scrambled toward the door. The pike slammed into the bed just after she had moved out of the way.

"This isn't happening," Dolores said as she went to grab her robe. She grabbed for her wand but a Malcolm-colored owl grabbed it out of her hand while her arm was hit with another well aimed shot. Then a voice behind her yelled, "Heeeeeere's Malcolm!"

She ran for the door yelling, "I'm leaving, I'm leaving," in the vain hope of stopping the demented spectre.

"I'll never leave you," Malcolm yelled. She fled the infirmary, with the aid of another crackling ball successfully aimed at her posterior.

*

Dolores Umbridge noticed that the ghost did not follow her out of the infirmary, and paused to catch her breath. She then decided that since she was leaving the school she should do so as quietly as possible. She tiptoed down the stairs and stepped over the trick stair, tripping on the piece of rope tied across the way. She fell the last two steps with a loud thud.

Umbridge shook her dizziness off and looked up at a sudden noise. She saw Malcolm standing there, with a pike, grinning at her. He was completely solid. "This is impossible?"

Malcolm smiled and raised his pike as Umbridge scrambled on all fours to get out of the way, barely making it. She ran for the next flight of stairs to find the ghostly form of Malcolm calling from behind, "I will always be there. Always. Always. Always." The former Headmistress ran around the corner in a panic as she headed for the side staircase at the end of the hall.

Malcolm suddenly appeared at the other end of the hall, again in solid form, this time without a pike. He charge down the corridor at Umbridge while swinging the mace over his head. Umbridge turned and fled for the main entrance, a quiet exit forgotten. Behind her the ghost of Malcolm called out, "Always. Always. Always.

*

Ginny held the butterbeer in her hand, waiting for the agreed time. As she heard Lee give the signal, Ron came up. "I'll have some of that, Sis," he said playfully and grabbed the butterbear out of her hand. He took a good swallow before she could stop him. "Tastes a bit funny," he added before he doubled over in pain. Two minutes later, he stood up, the perfect image of Malcolm. "What happened?"

Ginny smiled. "It's a bad bottle of butterbeer. I tried to warn you. You should go to the infirmary."

"Right," Ron said. "I do feel a bit off."

Ron walked down the corridor while Ginny crossed her fingers. Professor Umbridge suddenly ran around the corner scaring Ron. She saw him and panicked. "You're . . . You're . . ."

"Ron Weasley," Ron said, then saw how frightened Umbridge was. "Should you be out of bed?" he asked sarcastically. "You look terrible."

"No, no, you can't be," Umbridge screamed and ran past him. Ron looked back at her then happened to notice his reflection in a suit of armor. "I'll kill that Malcolm," he shouted.

*

Umbridge reached the main staircase and looked back, when she heard a familiar yet different voice. "Is there a problem, Professor?"

She turned around and stared in horror at the girl coming up the stairs. She was a girl but she was also Malcolm. Umbridge let out another scream and ran down the stairs where she saw Malcolm standing there with a large stick in his hand, grinning. Behind him, where the students were now coming out of the Great Hall, she spotted Nob waving at her, and noticed his resemblance.

As Umbridge gasped at the latest surprise, Malcolm began to swing the stick when Peeves suddenly appeared and grabbed it from his hands.

"Now it is my turn," Peeves said as he swung the walking stick and connected with Umbridge's rump. His next blow was aimed higher. She howled with fear and pain as she ran for the main doors which were suddenly opened for her by a greasy haired boy in a leather jacket who looked exactly like Malcolm.

Students were piling out of the Great Hall and clamoring to the windows to watch as Peeves harassed Umbridge all the way to the gate that marked the entrance to the school.

*

Dumbledore stood outside the Great Hall as the students returned to the feast. "All Malcolm's will report to me. NOW."

Albus led them into the side room where the first years were taken before the sorting. As all of them stood in a line, he tried to decide whether to be angry or amused. "Malcolm?"

The third boy in line raised his hand.

"I am relieved to find out that you have recovered from something that is incurable. You will stay. I see Polyjuice potion has been used and it is now wearing off. Mr. Weasley, I assume that it is you with the red hair?"

"Yes, Sir. Malcolm tried to trick my sister into drinking it?"

"He did not," Ginny yelled. "It was all planned. And you almost ruined it by your smug attitude."

"The two of you may go," Albus said as he dismissed them. "Mr. Jordan?"

"Yes, Sir. Even though I have finished my schooling, I still played a small part in tonight's affair."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Leaving the school proud of your accomplishments? You are almost back to normal. You may also go back to the feast." He turned to the third boy who was also changing. "Reese, I believe Millicent Bulstrode will be very happy to see you. Please feel free to join the feast."

"Sir, I would like to file a complaint. Peeves stole the cane I stole, I mean borrowed, from one of the teachers before I even had a chance to use it."

"I will deal with him, personally." He smiled as Reese left the room. "Anthony, there is no need for you to be here as you are not a Malcolm." Dumbledore paused as his eyes twinkled. "I believe that is the strangest line I've spoken in almost a century. Be that as it may, the feast awaits you as well. You may also spend the night here if you like. There is an extra bed in Malcolm's dorm."

"Thank you, Sir. But I'm supposed to leave tomorrow."

"Then take the train you arrived on. I will send for your baggage."

Anthony beamed like a five year old on his birthday. "Thank you. Sir." He left happily for the Great Hall.

The headmaster turned to the five remaining figures. "And you are?" he asked the ghostly figure.

"I fear I have set a poor example for my students," Professor Binns said. "I must confess that I am your history Professor."

"Albus," Professor Flitwick said from the doorway. "I did have a hand in that as well."

"Finite Incantatum," Dumbledore said, and Professor Binns returned to his normal self. He muttered an embarrassed thank you and floated away, giving a final wink to Malcolm. Flitwick mumbled an apology as well, and returned to the feast with a wide grin.

"Excuse me," Professor Vector interrupted.

"And did you have a part in any of this?"

"Sadly no, I merely came to take Nob off of your hands. While there is a family resemblance he should not qualify as a Malcolm."

"Very well, Nob, I leave you in the care of your great-grandmother."

"I was born on Hallowe'en," Nob said happily as he was led into the Great Hall. "I'm still accepting presents."

Albus turned to the next Malcolm in line.

"Wotcher, Albus," the female Malcolm said. "I'm fine but I think this 'un needs you help."

"Again, Mr. Malfoy?"

"It was Nob, Sir. He likes me for some reason."

"Finite Incantatum. You may go, Draco."

Draco turned to leave then turned back. "Malcolm, I am getting tired of this."

"And that leaves you," Albus said to the greasy haired Malcolm. "I would ask if you are Professor Snape but I know he is inside, so I must honestly ask who you are."

"The name's Louis Renault," greasy Malcolm said. "I heard that runt was going around telling people he was me and I came here to tell him to CUT IT OUT."

"We do apologize," Albus Dumbledore said politely. "All of us assumed that you were someone Malcolm made up."

"Excuse me, Sir," Malcolm said. "I know it sounds weird but I did make him up."

"This I gotta hear," Louis sneered. "Come out with it."

"Well," Malcolm said carefully, "I got the name from Harry Potter. He said I acted like a character in a movie who had that name. And I got the idea of how to look from this friend of my brother, some biker named Greaser."

"Hold it," Louis said angrily. "My dad ain't just 'some biker'. He can strip a Harley down and rebuild it so that it runs like brand new all in a days work. He's a top bike mechanic."

Malcolm looked amazed. "Honestly, I didn't know. Francis never said anything about Greaser having a family. But maybe he did, and I didn't remember. I'm sorry."

He held out his hand, but Louis only stared at it. "So, you're Francis's brother. Are you the smart one?"

"I thought I was."

Louis smirked and grabbed the proffered hand. "Good answer."

Albus smiled politely. "Now that everything is settled, Master Renault, would you care to join us for our end of the year feast."

"Thanks, I would."

"If you like, you may tell everyone that you are Malcolm. He won't be there to contradict you."

"WHAT?" Malcolm yelled.

"You seem to have forgotten, Malcolm. You have been expelled from this school for your unprovoked assault on a teacher. You deliberately attacked Professor Umbridge in her classroom because she tried to exert her authority."

"I honestly don't remember doing anything like that, Sir."

[_The truth is, I honestly don't remember anything from that day._]

"I do believe you, Malcolm. Professor Vector informed me of exactly what you do not remember."

"He didn't do anything wrong," Dewey said from the doorway. With him where the Gryffindor, Euan Abercrombie, the Ravenclaw, Michael Davies and Rose Zeller from Hufflepuff.

"He didn't do anything wrong," Rose repeated. "We were there, and we do remember."

Dumbledore frowned but his eyes held there twinkle. "Then all of you saw Malcolm cast the spell?"

"No, Sir," Michael said with embarrassment.

"You did not see, Mr. Davies. Why is that?"

"Um," Michael muttered and fell silent.

Roger Davies stepped from behind the door, and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Excuse me, Sir. I shouldn't have been listening in, but Michael told me what happened that day. It seems that our former Headmistress was so insulted by my brother's reading difficulties that she thought a sharp blow to the head would be an excellent educational aid. Malcolm's spell hit her as her hand was descending on my brother."

"That is information that I was not given," Dumbledore admitted, "and I will weigh it carefully but that alone does not change Malcolm's current position."

"Sir," Roger continued, "Then may I thank Malcolm on behalf of my family for his wisdom in identifying Michael's problem."

"Um," Malcolm said. "That wasn't me, Sir. I was ready to label him as stupid just like the rest of the teachers. Dewey blamed me to hide the fact that he did it."

"A Slytherin?" Roger said with a laugh, while Michael gave Dewey a grateful grin. "I have to thank a Slytherin?"

Roger held out his hand. "Thank you, Dewey. I am more amazed that you could spot the problem when older and wiser people could not."

Dewey gave him a wry smile. "Someday I'll tell you about my friend Retard."

"Sir," Euan asked. "Does Malcolm still have to leave?"

Albus nodded. "I am afraid he does."

"Then we'll never find out how he cast the spell," he said sadly, and the other first years nodded.

Albus stared at the strange comment. "You told me that you saw him cast the spell."

"Yes, Sir. He stood there and the spell hit the toad lady, I mean . . ."

"I know what you mean," Albus said with a chuckle, "but he still cast the . . ." Dumbledore paused in mid-sentence. "Mister Abercrombie, you said that he stood there?"

"Yes, Sir."

"He did not wave his wand or recite an incantation?"

"Yes, Sir. Um, that's correct, Sir."

"That's impossible," Louis Renault said.

"Obviously it is not, Mister Renault," Dumbledore pointed out. He looked at Euan. "I assume the other first years can verify your statement?"

"Yes," three voices shouted."

"I would suggest that all of you return to the feast. I will be there shortly."

Dumbledore's manner made everyone obey but left them all with a feeling of hope.

"Mister Renault?"

"I'll wait and watch, Teach. This guy's proving to be a character. I want to see how it turns out."

"Malcolm?"

"You know as much as I do, Professor. I don't remember that day at all."

"I was asking if you had any objection to the other boy being here?"

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

Dumbledore managed to scowl with a smirk. "You have given me some of the strangest problems I have ever had, Malcolm, and I have had many to deal with. I will let you attend the farewell feast but you must remember that you are here as a guest. Your status is still that of a student who has been expelled, although I will discuss these new facts with the Minister."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Remember, Malcolm. I can give no guarantees. Off with the two of you now."

"I'm impressed," Louis laughed. "You hit a teacher, and it looks like you'll get away with it."

Malcolm joined his laughter. "And you were worried about your reputation." 

As the headmaster opened the door to the Great Hall, Louis threw his arm over the other boy's shoulder. "You know, Malcolm, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."


	36. The Feast

A/N: I wanted to explain the closing line to the last chapter, in case some of you are not familiar with it. That line directly relates to the closing line of the movie, Casablanca (which the AFI ranked as only the second best film of the twentieth century. Did they really believe that a story about a guy and his sled was a better movie? Not that there's any prejudice on my part.) The closing line is spoken by Rick (Humphrey Boggart) to the Louis Renault (Claude Rains). "You know. Louis, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." I guess I'm trying to say that you're right. I agree with you about the use of words but it is a line I had to use. If you noticed, I also used it in my other stories. Thank you for letting me talk about my favorite film. Next time I'll try not to talk as much.

To clarify a point for some other readers, Louis Renault was a character that Malcolm made up. That is why everyone was surprised when the real Louis showed up. It does make one pause in thought, though. If they were dealing with Malcolm, why were they surprised?

Also, for those of you who are anxious for me to finish: We're almost there.

  
  


CHAPTER THIRTYSIX: THE FEAST

  


"This is Great," Nob said happily as Professor McGonagall refilled his plate. "Thank you."

"And you are a very polite young man," Minerva replied.

"He learned that from his brothers," Professor Vector pointed out

"Yeah, Malcolm told me to watch it around you." Nob added

"He should take his own advice," McGonagall laughed.

"He does," Amber added. "He said you taught him to stand firm when he knew he was right. Although he still likes to be prepared."

Minerva McGonagall looked down at the boy who was stuffing his face, then glanced over at the moody boy at the Gryffindor table. "Stand firm. Do what is right," she said to herself as she unconsciously rubbed her chest where the stunning spells hit. "I must add to that list remember to duck."

"Excuse me?" Professor Vector asked.

"I was surprised to learn that Malcolm actually listened to me."

"Me, too," Nob said as he reached for a cookie.

*

"So, Good lookin'. You got a name?"

"Ginny Weasley. And you must be Snape's nephew."

"What?" Louis Renault asked, and looked when Ginny pointed. "Nope, never saw him before. Good hair, though. Anyway, you got a boyfriend?"

Ginny laughed. "No, I don't. Would I get the same answer if I asked if you had any manners?"

"Probably," Louis said and grinned when Ginny laughed.

"Could I try something," Ginny said, and gave him a kiss.

Louis smiled in surprise and asked, "What do ya think, Babe?"

"Yeah, you kiss just like my brother."

Louis shrugged. "I get that a lot. Mom says it'll change when I meet the right girl."

"Good luck."

"In the meantime?"

"Ask my brother. He's the one watching us. The one with the purple face."

"Gotcha," Louis said as he got up and sat elsewhere. "So, Good lookin'. You got a name?"

*

Hermione whispered something to Neville who looked in surprise. She nodded. Turning to Malcolm he asked, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Malcolm asked as he put down the bone from the chicken leg he had eaten.

"You've been expelled. But that was Umbridge. It shouldn't count."

"It does count," Malcolm told him. "It was by order of the Minister for Magic. I'm also forbidden to use magic, but I've been assured that the ruling applies to me only in Great Britain. I'll just be going to another school. That's all."

"We'll miss you," Neville said sincerely.

Euan stood in front of Malcolm and held out a piece of parchment. "You might want to keep this. It's a list of grades for the first years. Your name is on it."

"Did he finally pass?" Neville asked.

"My name's on this?" Malcolm asked.

"Yeah. All of us thought it was a joke, then we found out after it was all over that it was a real class. Why didn't you tell us you were a real teacher."

[_I'm a real teacher?_]

"I forgot," Malcolm said. "Besides, would you have tried as hard if you knew it was for real?"

Malcolm watched as Euan's jaw dropped open. At the same time a pair of arms came from behind and entwined themselves around Malcolm's neck, and a voice whispered into his ear.

"Je te adore."

"Who is that?" Euan asked in surprise and delight.

"My french teacher."

"I'd love to learn another language," Euan said loudly. The looks he received convinced him to go back to his own seat.

Gabrielle sat down between Malcolm and Neville as they made room. "I 'ave brought this for you," she said, and placed an envelope before Malcolm.

"What is that?" Neville asked.

Gabrielle smiled, knowing that everyone who could was listening to her. "Madame Maxime 'as personally invited Malcolm to attend Beauxbatons. It appears that 'ogwarts does not care about its students any more."

Gabrielle smirked as several students protested.

"Please tell the Headmistress that I accept." Malcolm grinned as he said that, looking only at Gabrielle.

*

"What?" Lois asked as she opened the door. "Oh, it's you Lloyd. Malcolm isn't home yet. Try tomorrow. Is this your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Lloyd insisted. "I'm only helping her out with a school project."

"I'm Belinda," the girl said, and added as a figure suddenly appeared next to her, "and this is my mom."

Lois marveled at the sudden appearance. "I didn't realize there were witches in the area. Come on in."

Belinda's Mom smiled. "We didn't even know about your family. I know all the girls rave about Malcolm but we didn't know it was your son. After all, he doesn't go to Brentwood."

"Coffee?" Lois asked as they sat down in the kitchen.

"Thank you. I'm being rude. I'm Beatrice. As I was saying, I didn't realize your family's background, and I thought I should welcome you back to the neighborhood. Since Belinda knows Malcolm, I suggested she bring me."

"To find out if we're really as bad as people say," Lois suggested.

"I didn't say that," Beatrice answered, but added, diplomatically, "we constantly hear things about your children and I assumed those things were said to help keep their magical abilities hidden."

"Believe what you want," Lois said offhandedly. "So. How does your daughter know Malcolm?"

"Let me say that I had to put a parental lock on the fireplace," Beatrice said as Belinda frowned. "Belinda, why don't you and your boyfriend take off. You obviously don't want to watch us talk."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"I'm only helping her with a project for Muggle Studies."

"Don't be ridiculous, all three of us know that Belinda can't take Muggle Studies until next year. I DO teach that course."

Lloyd looked at Lois in fear. "Please. Don't tell Malcolm."

"I promise," Lois said as Lloyd and Belinda fled.

"You dropped something," Lois called out as she reached down and picked up Belinda's wand.

*

"I am so happy for you," Harry Potter said sarcastically.

"Like I care," Malcolm retorted. "Every time you've said something to me it's been one snide remark after another. And I'm tired of it. It's bad enough I have to deal with your friend Ron all the time, but adding you to the mix made every day here a royal pain. Then after I'm done with you I have to turn around and deal with Draco and Dewey. I don't care if you're happy or not. I'm going to another school. If my mom lets me, I'm going to Beauxbatons, where I have actual friends. If not, then I'm going someplace close to home so I can see my old friends anytime I want to. Isn't that right, Lloyd?"

[_Lloyd?_]

"Lloyd, what are you doing here?"

"Belinda brought me?"

"Hi, Malcolm."

"Hi, Belinda."

"Um. Malcolm," Harry said.

"Oh, did you want an introduction? Well, forget it. These are my friends. I'm leaving here, and my life is going to be better."

"Um, Malcolm."

"Don't bother, Harry. The only way my life could get worse is if I stayed here."

"Um, Malcolm."

DO YOU HERE THAT, EVERYONE. I'M TIRED OF ALL YOU JERKS."

"Shut up and sit down," a voice said from behind him. "You're not going anywhere."

"Mom?" Malcolm said in surprise as he and Harry hurriedly sat between Gabrielle and Neville. He looked back and saw his mother holding something in her hand.

"Mom, you have a wand. What does that mean?

[_OH NO. Mom has a wand. You know what that means._]

"Just hope you never find out, little mister. And you, young lady," she pointed to Gabrielle and then to the other side of the table, "you will sit over there. I don't want the two of you getting any ideas. You're too young to have a girlfriend anyway, Malcolm. Where's your brother?"

"Which one? Nob is at the head table with Professor McGonagall, Dewey's at the Slytherin table with Draco, and Reese is outside in the bushes with Millicent Bulstrode."

"No, he isn't," Argus Filch said as he dragged Reese forward. "He's sitting here with you. Move over Potter."

"We were studying Astronomy," Reese insisted, then turned to Malcolm. "Why does Mom have a wand?"

"Mom is a witch."

"I know that, but why does she have a wand?"

Malcolm paused then smiled and pointed. "Harry can explain it better than I can."

"Harry? Hey, cool scar. Did you get that skateboarding or something?"

"Or something," Harry said angrily while Malcolm grinned even more. "Reese, your mother has a wand because she is able to do magic. Do you understand?"

As Harry tried to explain, Hermione offered Belinda and Lloyd a seat. Both declined, pointing at Reese. "Then I'll join you."

She led them to another spot where everyone grudgingly made room, especially the ones who had to move closer to Reese.

"No, that isn't it at all," Harry said in exasperation. "Your mother is a witch. She is capable of magic. You saw how the tip of her wand sparked as she held it. The wand only helps her."

"Then that funny feeling when you grab a wand has nothing to do with it?"

Everyone grew deathly silent at the implications of Reese's statement. Even Malcolm was flummoxed for a solution. That is when Harry proved why he deserved to be called a hero. "That's right," he said smoothly. "They only feel that way because they are wands. But that has nothing, nothing at all, to do with magic."

"Thanks," Reese said cheerfully as everyone in hearing distance exhaled, "and if anyone asks, Malcolm said it was okay for me to leave."

"I even heard him tell you," Harry offered happily.

After Reese left, Malcolm turned to Harry. "I owe you. You name it. Anything and I'll do it."

Harry smiled broadly. "When you leave, can you take your cousin with you?"

"I'll try."

"It's settled. You're staying," Lois said as she walked by on her way out. "Albus said you could take care of Belinda and Lloyd. Professor Vector will take care of Nob."

"Mom, about Professor Vector . . ."

"She's Hal's Grandmother. I know. She told us all about it while you were gone for the summer."

"Oh, okay. Bye."

"I'll see you tomorrow. REESE, GET OVER HERE."

"I like you're mom," Harry said as he watched Lois and her friend leave with Reese.

[_There's an interesting mood swing._]

"Only because she took my brother with her."

"No," Harry said sincerely. "It's more than that. She loves you. It obvious. I never had that. At least I don't remember. All I remember is everyone constantly yelling at me."

[_It's funny. That's all I remember, too._]

Malcolm patted Harry on the shoulder. "If I can work it out, we'll have you come over for a visit. Maybe when we have a family get-together."

Harry smirked. "You can have me sit with Cousin Draco."

"He'll appreciate your concern. Now that his dad's in jail." Malcolm and Harry smiled. "Oh by the way, If you get a chance, could you ask Sirius Black if I actually drew a mustache on his mother's portrait."

"It will be a while," Harry said coldly.

[_Great. Another mood swing._]

"Why is that?

[_That's the problem with not knowing things. If I had said something to anybody else, I would have known not to ask that question. And how do I know I shouldn't have asked that question? Because Harry's ready to either kill me or cry on my shoulder._]

*

"I want to know," Hermione asked. "Why are the two of you here?"

"Malcolm's mom went crazy and forced us to come," Lloyd said.

Belinda answered more calmly. "It seems that Malcolm's mom is a witch but she was never told about it. When I dropped my wand, she picked it up, and it began to shoot off sparks. THEN Malcolm's Mom went crazy and forced us to come, after we went to the Magimall so she could buy her own wand."

"Then we visited your Minister of Magic," Lloyd explained.

"What happened there?" Dennis asked.

"It was terrible," Lloyd told everyone. "The Minister was literally shaking in fear."

"Have you ever received a Howler?" Belinda asked. "It was like that except the person who sent it was actually standing there."

"It was amazing, too," Lloyd added. "I've never heard such a degree of vileness that could still be rated PG-13. I almost begged forgiveness."

"For what?" Hermione asked.

"Anything."

"Belinda," a voice interrupted.

"Mom?"

"Everything is settled. Lois and I are going back home now. You can either stay here, or come with us."

"Stay!" Belinda asked and answered.

"The headmaster said you can stay for the feast and come back tomorrow with Malcolm, on the train."

"Mom, that's wonderful. Thank you."

"And you will be grounded for the rest of the summer. You can explain what that means to Lloyd."

*

"There were two letters for you," Piama said. "Both by owl."

"Was it . . ."

"No, neither of them was Malcolm."

They both smiled. Francis reached over and took the first letter and opened it. He smiled broadly. "The house is ours if we want it. Gringotts actually approved the loan. All I have to do is have a job when we sign the papers."

"This house must have had a bad reputation."

Francis nodded. "I found out that the neighbors next door to us have a reputation as well." Ironically, both looked out the window at the neighboring house on the opposite side from the Burrow.

"And here is the second envelope."

Piama watched hopefully as her husband opened the letter and smiled when he did, then frowned when he did.

"What is it?"

"I got the job," Francis said sadly.

"Isn't that supposed to be good news."

"It isn't exactly the job I asked for. Piama, the travel agency that Arthur Weasley recommended does want to hire me, and they'll pay me a decent wage, but the job is back in the States."

"Then we can't buy the house." Piama looked around her. "It was such a nice house, too. I've never lived in a place like this. Even on the reservation, rooms were small."

Francis smiled. "I have had a Malcolm-sized thought. We can buy the house, and rent it until we can live here. It's only a matter of time. I'll do my best at this new job, and I'll put in my name for a local position every chance I get."

Piama wavered. "Let's do it. Regardless of what happens, we'll still have a house, even if it means we have to sell it."

"I'll send both owls back immediately," Francis said happily.

*

"Malcolm?" Hermione asked. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

"Anthony is sleeping in my bed."

"Isn't EJ's bed still in your dorm?"

"Yeah. Lloyd is sleeping in that bed. And Belinda is sleeping in Amber's old bed."

Hermione sat down after Malcolm sat up. "How are you?"

"Tired, and annoyed."

"Are you going to Beauxbatons next year?"

"Probably not. I think she's making me stay here. Mom's not too excited about my going to the same school as Gabrielle. Belinda's Mom showed her the pictures from the Cotillion."

Hermione laughed. "I don't know what your mom will think about Brentwood. Belinda told me that her mother explained everything to your mother about her visiting you. Remember, Malcolm, you are the international playboy of the wizarding world."

"Ask Harry if he wants to trade places?" Malcolm said mockingly. "This time last year, I had given up on stopping the lies about my having a magical heritage. Now I know that my father's a squib, my mother's an untrained witch, and her father was a pureblood who's name I will not mention. My Grandmother is the only normal person in the family and she makes Umbridge look like a kitten."

"I'm sorry, Malcolm. You're life was so simple before."

"Don't be. The only reason I'm upset is because I didn't know. But now that the truth is out, I think it's cool. My brother Francis even put together a family genealogy. We've traced all of our relatives back at least five generations, even the normal branch."

"You mean the muggle branch."

"Yeah. And this is the cool part. My Grandmother's father settled in England, so we even have relatives here. They're all normal, um, muggles, of course."

"That's wonderful." Hermione agreed. "Do you know where they are?"

"Not exactly. We do have a bit of a soap opera here. It seems that My grandmother's father was this guy named Thomas Riddermark." Hermione arched an eyebrow on hearing the name. "Anyway, he abandoned Grandma and her mother rather then get married. Then he moved to England, anglicizes his name and gets married anyway. His wife died giving birth and (this is typical of my Grandmother's family) he dumped the kid in an orphanage and took off."

"Does the kid have a name?" Hermione asked carefully.

"Yeah. Tom Marvolo Riddle. He should be in his sixties now. Francis is trying to find out is he ever married or anything."

[_Great. I said something wrong again. Thanks to Harry, I just have to hope that when I ask her why she's staring at me like that, she doesn't say she knows him and HE'S dead. Anything else I can handle._]

"Hermione? . . ."


	37. Epilogue

A/N: I regret to say this is it. On the other hand, I am now free to do other things while waiting for JK Rowling to do her thing.

On a parting note, I do agree with Mandraco about Malcolm's lineage but Black Ice was right. The look on Hermione's face was priceless.

To Grizabella, I send my condolences. Having to work for a living is a terrible thing. I know from experience.

  
  


CHAPTER THIRTYSEVEN: EPILOGUE

  


"Cousin," Draco said as he cornered Malcolm. "I need to tell you something of great importance."

"You're transferring with me to Beauxbatons?"

"Of course not."

"You're going to try attacking Potter again?"

"Obviously, but that isn't what I want to talk to you about. It's about money."

"Fine, I'll give back the rest of the money."

"That isn't it," Draco said. "Father arranged things so that I will be financially secure, even if the Ministry tries to seize Father's accounts. And all because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

[_I like the way his eyes got moist when he said that last line. Dewey must have been giving him lessons._]

"Okay. You don't need money. What is it?"

"I wanted to warn you. Friends of Father's did not have his skill, or sufficient time to alter their accounts, so they used a different means to protect their savings. They deposited what funds they had in someone else's account at Gringotts."

[_Gee, I wonder whose account they used?_]

"Mine?"

"Yes."

"Draco, are all of you crazy? Do you know what that does to me. How does 'directly implicated' sound to you?"

"Don't worry," Draco assured his cousin to no avail. "You are simply holding those funds for them. It's completely legal. All you have to do is return the money to them when they are in a position to accept it."

"You mean when they break out of jail."

"You will be compensated."

Malcolm paused. "How much?"

"It depends on how long the money stays in your account. You're good at numbers. You can figure it out."

[_I already figured it out. I'm dead regardless of what I do._]

"Draco, I mean this sincerely. Go to hell."

Draco threw his arm around Malcolm's shoulder. "Isn't life wonderful now that everything is back to normal?"

"You're joking?"

"Of course I'm joking. On the other hand, I'm still alive, I have money, and I have rented a house near the beach for the next two months. Unfortunately, a stupid oath I made last year prevents me from telling anyone but you where it is."

Malcolm laughed. "Do the Weasley's know?"

"One of them does. And she has promised not to tell her brothers. Shall we have our final breakfast together?"

"I have company. You remember Lloyd."

"I'll eat with Dewey. He's going to tell me the latest news on your family genealogy. It seems that there are some muggles in your family tree, after all."

[_Question: Should I tell Draco what Hermione told me? Answer: No way. I didn't even tell Dewey._]

*

Lord Voldemort sat in the dimly lit room thinking about his recent defeat. Several of his minions had been captured, but with the dementors now supporting him they would be free again soon. Now was the time to plan what he must do next. His thought were disturbed by a weak but persistent knocking on his door.

"Enter," he said angrily, only to regret his decision when Nott entered the chamber.

"I did it, Master," Nott said fawningly. "I have succeeded in my latest plan."

"And that is?" Voldemort asked without enthusiasm.

"I remembered how that boy Malcolm was so willing to help once he discovered that Lucius Malfoy was his uncle. I managed to convince his family that he is related to you. Now, he will do anything to help you."

"You convinced that self centered unappreciative little brat that he is related to me?" Voldemort was amazed. "What made you think that I would want him or ANYONE to think they were related to me?"

Nott faltered. "So that he would like you?"

Voldemort paused. "Nott, let me explain it to you this way. CRUCIO."

*

"This is strange," Mitchell said to Anthony. "When we first came here, I had to look down at you. You must have grown a foot."

Anthony smiled. "Eight inches, and still counting. How was your school year?"

"Terrible," five voices replied..

"It started of badly," Euan said.

"I started off badly," Matt corrected.

"It became worse very quickly," Rose continued.

"And everything went downhill from there," Jenny concluded.

"Was your year any better?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes, It ended a day before yours did." Anthony grinned widely.

*

"Yes," Lloyd explained, "We were told that Malcolm was committed to the Hogwarts Institute for Incurable Childhood Psychosis."

"It's amazing that anyone believed that," Ron said sarcastically.

"Ron doesn't like Malcolm," Dennis explained.

"Why?" Lloyd asked. "He's excellent protection from Reese."

"At least he's not Dewey," Belinda said while Ron scowled.

"Ron likes Dewey," Dennis explained.

"Why?" Lloyd asked.

"It's an English thing. You wouldn't understand."

*

Malcolm walked across the lawn as Nob held his hand. "What's so important that we have to miss breakfast?"

"I never thanked you," Nob said.

"For what?"

"For getting me adopted."

"It's something I wanted, too," Malcolm told him.

"And for figuring out what I was," Nob added softly.

[_Huh?_]

"I never understood those things I remembered until I heard you tell those people about it."

[_About being a changling?_]

"What things?" Malcolm asked in what he hoped was a calm manner. "Do you remember what you first were?"

"No, and I not sure of some of them," Nob said as they rested underneath a tree. "I remember noticing a fox and becoming one, and I remember seeing an elf and becoming one of those. That was scary. I was too scared to change until Mom took me home."

"And I showed you a picture of me," Malcolm said. "Are you happy?"

"Yeah," Nob answered. "Even when Mom yells at me."

Malcolm laughed. "That's why you always smile when she's shouting." He looked at Nob. "Do you think you'll change again."

"I won't," Nob said with surprising authority. "This is my shape."

"Is your shape in the mood for breakfast yet?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll race you." Malcolm said.

Nob took off and Malcolm leaned back against the tree, thinking about what he had been told.

[_This is weird. Nob could have been anything,_]

Malcolm looked over to see Nob still running, then looked up at the branches of the tree as he fell back in thought. Then his thoughts took a sharp turn.

[_I sitting beneath the Whomping Willow._]

Malcolm paused.

[_It isn't doing anything?_]

Malcolm stood up slowly and began to walk back to the school when a thought reoccurred to him.

[_Nob could have been anything!_]

Still beneath the tree, Malcolm looked up at the branches gently swaying in the morning breeze. He said the only thing he could think of.

"We'll take good care of him. I promise."

A branch came swinging down toward Malcolm and came close so that only one leaf gently brushed his cheek.

"You're welcome," Malcolm said, and walked back to the school as calmly as he could.

*

"Malcolm?" Harry asked as he saw the third year boy enter the building. "Are you . . ."

"I'm fine. I had a surprise. That's all."

"I'm glad I met you. I owe you an apology. Several apologies.

"For what?"

"For being too self centered. We're alike, you and I."

"No we're not. You're just going through another mood swing. In two hours you'll be sneering at me again."

[_Dewey's right. I have changed. I even feel like apologizing for snapping at him like that._]

"It's not a mood swing," Harry said calmly. "It's just reality sinking in. I think I hated you because I was jealous of you."

"Wait a minute. How could you be jealous of me?"

Harry smiled grimly. "How about the way your friends could always use the fireplace to visit you."

"That was Dewey's fault. He tricked Umbridge into leaving them open for him, but he forgot to get floo powder. If I had known earlier, I could have had Reese go directly to Slytherin."

Harry paused. "All of those places were connected so Dewey could use them?"

"Yeah. And he didn't tell anybody. Do you really believe I wanted Reese to drop by any time he wanted too? Or that airhead Belinda that Lloyd is going out with?"

"Then what about all that traveling you did? All those trips to London? Going to Beauxbatons?" Harry paused. "Forget that last one."

"Why?"

Harry looked embarrassed. "Hermione arranged it." Malcolm's eyes bulged. "It seems all the girls knew about Camilla, and 'Mione owled her and arranged the whole thing."

[_Hermione?_]

"I never knew."

"I shouldn't have told you."

"I'm glad you did."

Harry held out his hand and Malcolm took it. "I learned something, Malcolm. You aren't your cousin. I learned the hard way not to judge people by who their relatives are. I need to judge them for who they are. You're a good man to know."

[_This is a good ending. Now I feel bad for that spell I put on Hedwig's cage._]

"Harry," Ron said as he came down the stairs."

"Ron? What are you doing with Hedwig's cage?"

"I can't let go of it, Harry. Someone put a curse on it."

[_Now I don't feel so bad._]

"Good luck," Malcolm said. "I'll see you guys in the Great Hall."

"We won't be long," Harry said confidently as he pulled out his wand.

Hermione was standing at the entrance watching them. As Malcolm walked up, she asked, "Are the two of you back to being friends?"

"Yup," Malcolm said cheerfully. "You can tell everybody that Harry and Malcolm are together again."

  


FINIS

  
  


A/N Thus ends another year. Malcolm will return to the United States, not knowing that the British will declare a national holiday as a result. Reese and Dewey will return as well. Lloyd and Belinda will have to face the fact that they are both nerds in their own ways. 

  


Things to watch out for in the next year:

  


Anthony will be around but he will not be a major character.

Dewey will be a second year in Slytherin.

Malcolm will be going to Beauxbatons next year, if only for Hallowe'en.

Belinda and Lloyd, and Dabney and Cynthia and Eraserhead will have some roll to play. After all, Malcolm has to spend his summer with somebody. It might as well be with the Krelboynes.

Draco, assuming you have read book five, will recover from another unsuccessful attack and spend time at his favorite beach, in a familiar house.

Francis and Piama will move back to the United States, as Francis starts his new job as Ranch Manager. He will work for Otto And Gretchen who run a Dude Ranch for wizarding tourists who want a real taste of the old west.

David Winter will remain in his position as the American Consul for magic. He will unwittingly spend most of the summer less then a mile from where Draco is staying. At the end of the summer, he will rent a house, at the recommendation of Arthur Weasley.

David will also be made a member of the Order of the Phoenix. When Malcolm discover this, he will explain it away by telling Malcolm it is a social club in his home town in Arizona, something like the ELKS.

Snape's first words to Malcolm will be, "Oh, goody, you're back."

Lois's first words to Malcolm when they sit down to supper will be. "I hope you like having a larger family."

Malcolm will assure her that he does. "I think it's great, Mom."

Reese and Dewey will also agree, as will Hal."

Lois will respond to these words of support with the following line. "That's good to know. I'm pregnant."

  


On a sad note, there is no known release date for the sixth Harry Potter book, but I will try to have my story written within a reasonable time. I already have plenty of ideas. They are the ones I couldn't use in this story.

  


Sincerely, HiBob


	38. Bibliography

CHAPTER THIRTYEIGHT: BIBLIOGRAPHY

  


BOOKS

  


Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. JK Rowling (Great Britain, 2003)

  


Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. JK Rowling (Scholastic Press, USA, 1997)

  


The Pagan Mysteries of Halloween. Jean Markdale. Translated by Jon Graham. (U.S., 2001)

  


WEB SITES

  


The Harry Potter Lexicon 

  


The Math Forum (Ask Mr. Math) 

  


BBC Cult: MITM 

  


Malcolm In The Middle 

  


DVD

  


Malcolm in the Middle, The Complete First Season, Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, 2002

  


Casablanca, Turner Entertainment, 1999

  


The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, BBC Worldwide America, 2002

  


CD

  


Rick Wakeman, The Six Wives of Henry VIII, A&M Records, 1973

  


John Coltrane, A Love Supreme, Reissue by Verve Music Group, 2003


	39. Author's Notes

The following is a short essay that I wrote about Hogwarts in the Middle, shortly before I finished writing that story. I didn't posted it at the time because I thought it was too presumptive. I recently reread my notes and found that they do apply to the second and third stories. I'm posting it now as food for thought. It may be too presumptive, but I do think it is interesting and entertaining.

I would also like to sincerely thank everyone who has read this story as well as those who took the time to review. I could list all of your names here but I'm too tired to type for much longer. Please know that I did read every review and tried to respond when I needed to or could think of something to say.

- HiBob

  


*****

  
  


AUTHOR'S NOTES

  
  


I never meant to write a tragedy. I started with this wonderful idea of combining my favorite TV show with the most popular book of the day. It was done to amuse Kelly, a twelve year old girl who shares many of my interests (except for poker, an interest I share with her father.) She was the one who kept after me to finish.

Four months after I started writing, I have posted the Seventeenth chapter, and started to write this. The quality of the reactions I have received, and the efforts to write the second volume, have made me reflect upon what I have written. The thought that you, the readers, might be interested, prompted me to write this with the intent of posting it.

Malcolm, as I noted in the introduction, is a chameleon. He tries to fit in, everywhere. One reviewer, Mirrim, mentioned how everyone seems to like him. He has avoided making any overt enemies, although problems loom in the distance. He has friends who have strong feelings against each other.

It should be noted that Malcolm has four friends of varying degrees, six if you count the twins. Draco, the bad boy, is his best friend. Malcolm has even shared Draco's deepest secret. Draco is shown in the story, not as the smart-mouthed boy who always insults the Gryffindors. Instead, he is always shown in a compassionate light. He turns a different face to Malcolm, than he does to anyone else. And the unasked question is 'Why?' Malcolm is the perfect example of what Draco hates. He is a mudblood, a Gryffindor, and to make matters worse, an American. Something subtle happened to make them friends.

When they first meet, it is dark. Draco falls, and finds himself at Malcolm's feet, literally. He gets up, gauges Malcolm, then tries to show he is better. A dementor appears, and by their identical reactions they are shown to be equals. (I love symbolism.) When it is over, Draco finds he is indeed superior to the other boy, but only because of his experience. He offers his hand, (where has he done that before) and Malcolm takes it. Draco has made a friend. In exchange, Malcolm will help him hide his weakness.

This happens again to Draco, under different circumstances. He finds himself with Ginny Weasley, again in a position of weakness. As Malcolm did, she also agrees to help him. This time it is a kiss. They profess their hatred for each other but in different ways. Ginny hates him because she realizes what he could become, and what he will probably become. Draco hates Ginny because. . .he loves her. She did the one thing that no one other than Malcolm had done. She helped him because it was in her nature. Malcolm and Draco become fellow conspirators. Ginny and Draco become star-crossed lovers. Both know it could not work out unless one of them changes, and neither will. Their love is for what might have been.

Draco is not evil. I refuse to consider him as such. The Evil people are the adults. Draco may become evil, it is almost a guarantee, but that is in the future. He is still in the range of limitless possibility. Because of this, Draco is a tragic figure.

Ginny is also a tragic figure. In the Rowlings books she had a crush on Harry Potter. Here, she has a chance to transfer that feeling to someone who might reciprocate, but it someone too different.

The minor hero of the story is EJ, a fellow first year who meets Malcolm in the boat, and then at the Gryffindor table. He has a comic problem to begin with (His real name is Ishmael Ipswitch Captain), which is resolved quickly by Malcolm. He quickly flourishes as his own person, even though he remains a minor character.

Neville is the fourth friend. Pushed by circumstances into the background of this story, he is the link between Malcolm and Harry. He is the only character actively involved with both of them as a protagonist. He is the constant in the story.

Malcolm is the most tragic figure in the story. This is not because anything bad happens to him, but because anything that happens to him doesn't really matter. He will never be the Hero of his own story, because, ultimately, it is not his story at all. It is still Harry Potter's story. The events of Harry's life shape Malcolm's life. Sirius Black is the most significant aspect of this. He is there because of Harry. What happens to him happens because of Harry. All of Malcolm's efforts count for nothing in the greater story. He has not had any real effect on events. And that is the tragedy.


End file.
